


your eyes look like coming home

by allthemagicthings



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthemagicthings/pseuds/allthemagicthings
Summary: Sometimes life is complicated and People grow apart. Kids don't really get that, though. Quentin and Eliot had a hard time understanding it at 18 and now Quentin's 10 and 7 year old children don't want to understand it either.So, with the help of his two precocious kids, Quentin, a widower, reconnects with his high school sweetheart, Eliot Waugh: who just happens to be one of the biggest pop stars on the planet.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 26
Kudos: 94
Collections: Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First, I want to thank Gigi, my amazing, amazing beta. I could literally not have done this without her.  
> Quickly, I'd like to explain that I very strongly headcanon Plum in the show to be a Coldwater-Waugh descendant and that's where Plum being Quentin's daughter in this fic comes from.  
> Also, can I scream about Melissa's art because I couldn't have wished for a better artist. Please check out her art in the "inspired by" link on this fic and catch her [on twitter here](https://twitter.com/drawmliz) and [on instagram here](https://www.instagram.com/drawmliz/).  
> Thanks also to all the other mods of The Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza for making participating in this challenge as a writer and an artist as painless as possible.  
> The title for this fic comes from "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.  
> 

Quentin eyed the pan in front of him skeptically. The scrambled eggs he was making didn’t even look halfway done, which is why he decided to just turn the heat up a little bit. It couldn’t hurt right? They had to leave soon and the kids hadn’t gotten any breakfast yet. While Quentin might have been a bit of a mess at times, taking good care of his children was the most important thing for him. 

Now he was only missing one more important thing. He really needed a system for this, he figured as he opened drawers and began looking under the stacks of paper spread out all over the kitchen. When he caught a glimpse at the clock he sighed. “Plum, Teddy! Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

It didn’t even take his daughter a second to stand in the doorway, already dressed, purple strands clipped into her hair and with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She was just twelve years old, but seemed to have her shit together so much better than her father already. There was no way she got it from him. “Can we listen to Christmas songs on the way?” 

Quentin looked around the room one last time. “If I can find my keys that’s a definite possibility.” He tried to suppress some frustration by burying a hand in his hair when he heard a jingle. Plum was shaking the keys, looking unimpressed. 

“Thank you.” He took them. God he really didn’t know what he would do without her.

“What’s burning?” Why did life have to be like this? His face scrunched up as the smell of burned egg reached his face. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” Quentin wasn’t the best cook, but he knew scrambled eggs weren’t supposed to smell like that. Or look like wet coal. 

“What was that supposed to be?” Plum asked, eyeing the mess in front of him. He sighed and scraped it into the trash can, before he started scrubbing the pan.

“Your and Teddy’s breakfast.” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.”Quentin could feel his hands soaking up the water already, making him feel as disgusting on the outside as he did on the inside. The pan didn’t seem to get any cleaner, though. He felt exhausted already, his hands hurting and he knew they had to leave. Plum reached up to the cupboard and pulled out the toast, popping it into the toaster with ease. 

“Don’t worry, dad. We like these more anyway.” Well they would get enough good food at his parents’, he thought, remembering his mom's amazing sweet potato casserole. He quickly smeared the toasts with nutella and jam, for Teddy and Plum respectively, at least one thing he was able to do.

“Dad I’m ready!” One quick look at his son told Quentin that he was, indeed, not ready. Not only were his clothes the wildest combination of colors imaginable, his shoes definitely weren’t made to be worn outside- or for a visit home. 

“What are you wearing there, buddy?” He asked sympathetically, hoping his son would realise his mistake on his own. Teddy didn’t seem to do that, instead his mouth split into the widest grin possible as he exclaimed:

“CROCS!”

This wasn’t a problem, Quentin told himself as Plum handed her brother his breakfast. Teddy could dress however he wanted, this was just the family and he didn’t want to see his son unhappy. His son was beaming with pride for having put together such a great outfit and that was all that mattered. 

“That is great! But maybe let’s change into other shoes at least?” There was a questioning look on his son’s face and Quentin realised he needed to explain it better. “It’ just that they aren’t really made for wearing such a long time and-” Teddy didn’t look convinced, “We don’t want anyone to get jealous of them! Because they look so amazing!”

Teddy thought it through for another moment, then nodded. “You’re right, daddy! It’s thanksgiving, no one can be sad on thanksgiving!” He really was a little angel, Quentin thought and gave him a thumbs up.

When he disappeared to change his shoes he turned back to look at Plum, who was already putting the dirty plates in the sink. “Good save!” She smirked. That girl was too smart for him, just like her mother, not that he would ever mind it. He just hoped they wouldn’t be _too_ late.

❄❅❄❅❄

“Alright guys!” Quentin yelled when he opened the trunk to get out their bags. He didn’t even notice Plum standing next to him until she started speaking. 

“Are you okay?” Surely not a question Quentin wanted to be asked, especially not by his daughter. Dammit, he really needed to work on himself. He couldn’t have Plum worry about his well being now, not when she had to deal with him being a disaster parent already. 

“Of course, why?” He said, hoping he could mask the nagging horrible feeling that was stuck in his brain. 

“My psychiatrist said that holidays are an especially difficult time for people who have to deal with grief. That’s why you’re so sad.” As if it wasn’t bad enough that he had to send his twelve year old daughter to a psychiatrist - first for grief counseling, then because she liked it there and he wouldn’t refuse her - now she used that time to think about him instead of herself. Quentin should have known that there was no way to trick her, she could see through him like glass. He just wished he could, just to make it easier, she already had to go through so much at such a young age. 

“Well, he isn’t _my_ psychiatrist.” Quentin tried to act like he was okay, he really did. He had to play it off. “So maybe it’s you who has something on your mind. Want to talk about it?” He already knew what she was going to talk about and he knew how much it would hurt.

“Do you think mom’s with us? Like an angel?” His heart dropped as he sat down inside the trunk, motioning for her to join him. She just looked at him with those big vulnerable eyes. Sometimes he almost forgot how young she was, the way she had everything handled, the way she seemed to hold it together way more than he did most of the time. 

“Of course she is.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing his own tears down with all the power he had left. “She is watching over you and Teddy all the time.” His hand stroked over her cheek as she nodded. 

“And you, too” He knew he needed to keep himself together in front of her, but his feelings were overwhelming and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold them back for much longer.

“Yeah, and me, too.” He got up, handing her a bag. “Can you bring this inside for me, please? And maybe see if Teddy is behaving, too.” She nodded and took off, probably sensing that her father needed a moment to himself. 

Thankfully he had learned to cry in a silent way, without trails of tears on his face or shirt, or any other indicators of him being anything but fine. This wasn’t what life was supposed to be like, he wasn’t supposed to be left alone to raise two children. It shouldn’t be this hard. And Plum was right, the holiday season wasn't making this any easier. He missed Arielle everyday and him fucking up the simplest tasks like making breakfast made it even clearer that he couldn't do this without her.

“Hey grandma! Hey grandpa!”, He could hear Plum yelling from the door. It made it easier for him to wipe away the tears and move towards the house. No matter how hard it was, how lonely it felt, he would always be thankful for his children. As long as he had them he would always make it through. 

The sadness, thankfully, was easier to forget as soon as he was greeted by the smell of turkey and the calls of his name, warm hugs from his parents and the general aura of life and homeliness. “So glad you made it, buddy.” His dad petted his shoulder, smiling at him. He reminded himself to visit more often, as he watched the kids happily running towards the sofa and turning on the TV while he had to set the table.

He was almost done when he heard the announcement of a very familiar name coming from the TV- _“and now Eliot Waugh”_. Not this again. Quentin could feel his earlier exhaustion creeping up. A soft voice started filling the room, reaching up to him and taking him back to old times. 

“Hey”, another pair of arms slung around him from behind. He nearly panicked at the unexpected contact, but he could have recognized his best friend anywhere.

“Julia!” The two friends hugged for a while. They didn’t even live that far apart, but with her being an extremely successful lawyer and him having to take care of two children on his own, it was difficult to find a lot of time to just hang out. Holidays were a blessing, since Julia had distanced herself from her own family back when they were teenagers (Her mom had claimed Julia’s _Lifestyle_ would threaten her political career. Julia solved that problem by cutting all ties with her.) and had started spending family holidays with the Coldwaters. They had viewed her as somewhat of a sister/daughter before that already, but afterwards it was clear that Julia was a Coldwater just as much as Quentin was. “I missed you.” He said as they finally broke apart.

“Well, it took you long enough to get here.” he tried to keep eye contact, hoping she wouldn’t notice the music playing in the background. Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. “Oh my god, is that-” 

“Hey, Auntie Julia!” 

Quentin always thought he couldn’t love his children any more, but every hour he was proven wrong. Plum pulled her towards the couch, while Teddy kept being transfixed on the TV screen. 

“Shh! Eliot is singing!” Quentin buried his face in his hands. He wanted to yell at the skies. Of all obsessions his son could have developed, all the singers on this earth, why did his favorite have to be Eliot fucking Waugh? At least it wasn’t some rich douchebag, Quentin guessed, closing his eyes and preparing himself for what was about to come.

“ _Eliot_ , you say?” Why couldn’t Julia just shut up. “Does your dad like him, too?” When he opened his eyes to glare at her, he was greeted by a devilish grin and the sight of a way to gorgeous man on the TV screen, instead. Another unfair thing, why couldn’t Eliot just age normally - with wrinkles around his eyes, or a receding hairline, or a beer belly (or, best case scenario - a combination of the three) - and make this whole thing easier for him?

“Dad doesn’t know who Eliot is”, Plum chimed in. Well, his daughter didn’t pick up on everything after all. “He is way too old.” Quentin made a face. Ouch. Also, Eliot was _older_ than him! 

“Hey, Q, did you hear that?!” Julia was barely keeping herself together, not that either of his children noticed. To be fair, Eliot was a very distracting person, even through a TV screen. “Your daughter thinks you’re too old to know who _Eliot_ is!” Julia made her way back to where he was standing behind the sofa, regretting a couple of life choices. Maybe kids shouldn’t be allowed to watch TV at all.

“Well, she’s right.” If everything else failed, denial would always be a great solution. “Music wise, I still live in the dark ages.” He just shrugged his shoulders before turning to Julia, using his best puppy dog eyes on her. She rolled her own eyes in return.

“Theo’s parasocial obsession with Eliot is bordering on unhealthy.” Plum threw in, pointing at the way her little brother was staring at the screen. Quentin couldn’t disagree with that, he had been tortured with hours and hours of that angelic voice blasting through the house, his car, even at the school talent show. It was really hard to forget about what happened when his face stared at you from multiple posters in your son's bedroom.

“No it isn’t!” Teddy turned to argue with his sister. “He is just my favorite singer. And anyway, everyone loves Eliot!” His son looked deeply disturbed by the mere idea of anyone not worshipping the ground Eliot Waugh walked on. He looked at his aunt expectantly and Julia nodded.

“You don’t even know how right you are, Teddy! Isn’t he right, Quentin?” He gave her one last pleading look.

“I should go, set up the table. . .“ He was sure his voice didn’t sound as indifferent anymore, but as far as he was concerned he had finished this conversation. Julia didn’t show any sign of wanting to help, instead she sat down next to his kids. 

“Why is that such a big deal?” Plum asked, back on her game. 

❄❅❄❅❄

_Quentin had been nineteen years old, the first time he listened to this voice without the boy who owned it being anywhere near him. There was a certain amount of shame accompanying him_ , _had been, from the moment he had picked up the record. It would’ve been a smarter move to just ignore it, move on with his life the same way Eliot had instead of looking back._

_But there had been no one with him that day, so he took it from the shelf, and hid it with his hands. He felt like he was picking up porn, not a cd. No one had to know about this, about him being this weak and unable to move on. He had wanted to put it back a million times before reaching the register._

_“That’ll be $6.99!” He avoided eye contact with the cashier as he pulled out a ten dollar bill and hastily put the album into his backpack._

_He usually hated seeming impolite, but he still didn’t manage to reply to the young woman wishing him a good day when she handed him his change. As soon as he made it home he hid the cd under his bed, and vowed to himself to never actually listen to it._

_It didn’t take him long to break that vow._

❄❅❄❅❄

Through some miracle Julia had noticed how much he didn’t want to discuss this now, so she just replied with a quick “It’s not". Sadly, that was the moment his dad decided to join the conversation, asking everyone what they were talking about.

“Eliot!” Teddy exclaimed happily. 

“The pop singer?” Sometimes Quentin was thankful for his dad’s obliviousness towards certain things. He still would appreciate it if everyone could just let things go and move on with their day. “Oh yes, I see. That’s funny because you know, back in the day when-”

“I’M DONE! GO GET YOUR FOOD GUYS!” Quentin wasn’t proud of the amount of panic in his voice, but in his defense, he had seen his mom carrying the turkey out of the kitchen, a guardian angel saving him from this situation. 

“I’ll just need to wash my hands!” Plum said and Quentin guessed it was okay for him to retreat to the dining table already, when his mom told her to mute the TV after she was done and she nodded. His little angel.

❄❅❄❅❄

Plum just knew there was something off. She moved closer to the TV after the last member of her family had left the room. She wasn’t as bad as her brother, but she certainly did enjoy Eliot’s music a lot and he did seem like a decent person. So why did her dad get weird every time he was mentioned?

“So, Eliot we hear you have a christmas album coming up! Can you tell us about it?” A woman was interviewing the popstar holding a microphone to his face. “Yeah it’s actually a mix of some originals and some alterations to traditional songs. I wanted to try out something new.” Plum had to agree that this was not the Eliot she was used to seeing, wearing a sweater instead of the more inappropriate attire which had encouraged their dad to set some rules on which music videos they were allowed to watch and which not.

“So we can expect to see a lot more from you this holiday season?” The woman asked and Eliot nodded. “Yes, I do have a couple of life appearances planned, along with a life concert on christmas eve. Oh and there is the CD release party on tuesday, I’m doing a meet and greet at White Castle Records in Manhattan!” That actually wasn’t that far away, Plum mused. Eliot didn’t stop smiling at the camera, “So everyone who lives in the area should come around!” 

“Wow”, The woman looked surprised, “You are definitely treating the people from the tristate area well this holiday season!” Eliot hesitated before replying “Well I am from there so. . .it’s good to be home.” That fact was something she could work with, finally. 

Plum decided she had to join the others now, if she didn’t want to seem suspicious. The woman went on telling the audience how “Eliot’s new album is going to drop on tuesday, believe me, you are gonna want to add it to your holiday collection!” when she muted the TV and went back to the dining table.

❄❅❄❅❄

_After two days Quentin took the record out for the first time. He was greeted by a cocky looking Eliot in a white t-shirt and red flannel, one of his hands was buried in his dark curls- they looked different, too. Quentin remembered how many times he had tried to style them- the futile attempts of frosted tips or cutting them off altogether, he had never stopped looking like a dork. Now they were framing his face, adding some extra charm to his already handsome appearance. Quentin had liked the dorky look, it had looked real, like the Eliot he used to know._

_There were other things that nagged at Quentin, his tiny moles were gone, along with every other little imperfection that had made him_ him. _The emotions on his face were just off, Eliot had looked insecure or excited or confused or sad but he’d never looked this suave, charming and confident. His eyes weren’t the eyes of a boy with big dreams, they had the look of someone who knew what he wanted and got it no matter what. That was what Eliot had wanted to become, and Quentin knew it, knew he had reached his dreams._

_He was sure Eliot had already moved on, unlike him. The old Eliot might have been as sappy as him but not this new one, not this generic looking teenage heartthrob. He couldn’t handle this anymore, couldn’t look at Eliot’s stupid face. He turned the record around and there they were- song titles. Quentin’s mind wandered back to an interview with Eliot he had read not too long ago, something that made him feel even worse about holding this record in hand, about feeling the way he was feeling._

**_“Most of the inspiration for my music comes from my real life. That’s why it’s about first loves and all the drama that comes with it, about the good feelings but also about stuff like heartbreak and loss and change. About the sacrifices we have to make.”_ **

_Quentin wasn’t one to flatter himself, but he knew that it had to be about him. Eliot had written songs about him, about their lives. It wasn’t exactly a first for him, but it was the first time he shared it with the entire world. A year ago it would have gone differently, a year ago Eliot would have been there, sitting crosslegged on Quentin’s bed, a guitar in hand. He would sing for him. Quentin would try to hold back tears and make sure he looked as amazed as he felt inside. He’d clap and press a thousand kisses to Eliot’s face as soon as he struck the last chord. Now it felt like he was singing for everyone_ but _him._

_It didn’t get much better when he read the titles. There were songs in there Quentin knew, songs which used to make his heart jump in happiness. He wasn’t fucking allowed to sell their love story out like that, he thought bitterly. Then his eyes fell onto the last track._

**_“I’m sorry”_ **

_He threw the whole thing to the other side of the room, undecided if he wanted it to break or to remain intact. The anger made him freeze in place, making him feel suffocated. You better fucking be, Eliot. He wanted to move but he couldn't, not when he felt like he'd break down as soon as he took a single step. Now go and live your dreams._

_Quentin breathed in deeply. Eliot living his dreams. It's what he has wanted for him, it's what he would have given anything for, not too long ago._

_All of a sudden the mad feelings disappeared and were replaced by a pang of guilt. Eliot_ was _living his dreams. He had finally gotten to be the person he had wanted to be, to be happy and here was Quentin, being bitter about it. He wasn’t being fair, Quentin had made his fair share of mistakes himself, he had wanted this for Eliot more than anything. He should be happy for him._

_He walked across the room to find the record unharmed. There was no shame left when he put it in a player and pressed a button. The things he felt when he heard the first song, a song he already knew by heart, were longing and nostalgia and love. He wasn’t sure if he had ever missed Eliot as much as when he heard the song he had known for years, but never like this, with multiple instruments and a faint echo in Eliot’s voice, never not aimed at him._

_It still sounded beautiful, Quentin thought and sat down on his bed. The second verse began and Quentin smirked at the familiar line “Dreams are fucking crazy, most not even true. . .” When they had been younger Eliot hadn’t even managed to sing it without a giggle. Quentin had asked him why he put the word fuck in a song if he couldn’t handle it and Eliot had explained that he couldn’t be afraid of cursing if he wanted to be a serious musician. Also cursing was fun. Starting with that they used it a lot more, to the horror of their parents. Eliot had been right, it was indeed a lot of fun._

_He had to stop listening after the first song. It was too much, his heart felt heavy and as much as he cherished those memories, he couldn’t handle all of these at once. It would take him months to finally get to the last song, by then there wouldn’t be any malice towards Eliot left. All that was important was Eliot’s happiness and he had reached that, now it was Quentin’s turn to do the same._

  
  



	2. Chapter Two

“I hope everyone still has room for desert?” They had eaten for hours and Quentin was pretty sure it was impossible for anyone to have any sort of room left. Not that it stopped them from taking at least one piece of Mrs. Coldwater’s homemade pumpkin pie.

“And by the way”, Julia chimed in after finishing the first bite of desert. “I  _ love  _ the decorations!” Quentin had to agree, his mom had gone all out, there wasn’t an inch of the house left without a little pumpkin or a piece of green placed on top of it.

“Well, she uses Thanksgiving to warm up for christmas.” His dad laughed, and Quentin could only nod, remembering the  _ heap _ of decorations stored away in the garage already. His mom added new items to it every single year. 

“I love the holidays, sue me!”, she joined his laughing father. “And I haven’t even put the tree up yet!” she gestured towards the corner of the room where the christmas tree got placed every year. “But now that we are talking about it. . . what are your plans for Christmas?”

“Well. . .” Plum started, “actually, Eliot has a concert on christmas eve. Maybe we could go to that?” Just when Quentin thought the Eliot drama of the day was over. . . Teddy’s eyes shone brightly and he clapped, clearly agreeing with his sister and Juli just couldn’t contain herself anymore and started laughing.

“No.” Quentin said firmly, trying to avoid Teddy’s disappointed look. “It’s just- you need to be asleep so Santa can drop of your presents!” Julia still hadn’t stopped laughing. Quentin shot her a warning look, internally debating if he should dunk her face into that pumpkin pie. 

“Ok I am done!” His daughter interrupted. “What’s the big secret with Eliot?” Julia finally stopped laughing, giving him a worried look instead, so did his dad. His mum just rolled her eyes at the other two’s inability to keep a secret.

“Nothing.” Quentin muttered. Thankfully everyone around him understood that this wasn’t something he really wanted to talk about. Well, almost everyone.

“Oh really?”, Plum continued. “Because you get all weird when we start talking about him. And so do Julia and grandpa”. Quentin opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. “Don’t even try me dad, I am smarter than you.” That certainly wasn’t the attitude an eleven year old should have with her father. The problem was, she was right and lying to his children was exhausting. 

Even worse, he didn’t want to lie to them, so he gave Julia a heads up. “Ok I’ll explain!” She blurted out. “We actually went to highschool with him.” There was a dramatic pause as the kids took that information in.

“Wow, so you and dad knew Eliot?!” maybe the excited look on Teddy’s face made this entire ordeal worth it. He smiled as Plum exclaimed 

“That’s so cool” and gave Julia a nod, confirming that she could go on.

“We used to hang around together and were pretty close back then, but  _ especially  _ your dad.” More gasps and wide eyes followed when she went on. “They were real high school sweethearts, our little literature and music nerds,  _ crazy in love. _ ”

Quentin would have lied if he said he never imagined telling his children how he dated Eliot. While he had had many logical good reasons to not tell them, seeing their shocked faces now brought him a little satisfaction. “You’re telling me  _ dad _ dated a celebrity?!” 

He shook his head. “Eliot wasn’t a celebrity back then.” Actually, Eliot had been extremely different to the person he seemed to be now. It made it easier, in a way, seeing his face so often.

“What happened?” Teddy asked. He had always been a curious kid, they both were, Teddy was just the one asking the questions outright. 

Quentin didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t even want to think about it, but he was in the situation now. Might as well just get it over with. “Graduation.” Everyone stayed still, waiting for him to go on, explain what had driven them apart exactly. “That’s all,” he added. There hadn’t been any big fights or lies, no one had had an affair or a bad secret. They just went on to live their separate lives.

Julia took over once more. “Eliot needed to move to L.A. to get his career started. I think he asked your dad to join him, but he didn’t go.” Quentin tried to avoid eye contact with everyone at the table. “If you ask me he couldn’t deal with the timing, Eliot had gotten a lot of media attention right as we were graduating, it was crazy, everything was changing,  _ especially Eliot. _ It was a lot to handle.” 

“But that’s what Eliot always does, isn’t it? Change?”, Plum was right, it was part of Eliot’s ongoing fame. He started off as a generic pretty teen but that was just one of many stages he went through. At some point, to make sure the media would stop ignoring his sexuality, he went full queer icon, rainbow themed album and all, later there had been a Bowie-like one, a punk rock one, among many others. If he was honest with himself, the last one, which had Eliot posing shirtless and in long leather coat, had been way too nice to look at. 

His current one was a drastic departure from that. “Well, I guess that was the first time he did it. Though it was a lot more than him starting to wear comfy clothes.”; Julia answered. That was the way current Eliot was presenting himself, the first time he had seen him in glasses since he left, along with sweaters, cardigans, necklaces and those warm smiles. Everything was fitting into the aesthetic he had created for a cozy christmas album. 

“I don’t know if I’d describe the sweater he was wearing as ‘comfortable, exactly. . .” His mum, who was a woman with passionate opinions about yarn, rejoined the conversation.

“Well,” Teddy exclaimed, “That sweater fucks.” 

In shock, Quentin turned to his son. “What did you just say?!” Julia almost fell from her chair laughing, Plum was nervously biting her lip, both his parents seemed to find the situation amusing rather than worrying. Teddy opened his mouth but Quentin interrupted him. “No! Don’t repeat it, Jeez, where did you learn to say words like that!?”

Quentin was almost sure his son was making himself look extra innocent on purpose. Damn that adorable little angel. “Someone on Youtube said it. The woman with the pretty blue hair, you told me I was allowed to watch that channel.” 

Damn, he was right, he remembered that. “Just don’t use it, okay?” Teddy nodded dutifully. Hopefully he would listen to him, he couldn’t have his kid running around saying stuff like that. Not that he was  _ wrong _ . 

“This conversation really is rollercoaster of emotions”, Julia said, before digging back into her pie. Quentin considered doing the same, though teasing her back for once might stop her from getting more dumb ideas. 

“Like your last relationship?”, he quipped, earning himself “hey” and a punch to his shoulder. “You’re right. . . when have  _ you  _ even been in one?” There it was, the flash of panic on her face. Quentin had at least as many stories to tell about dear auntie Julia as she had about him. He could fill days with stories about her, Kady, Penny and the resulting Drama. Only he didn’t, because unlike her he wasn’t an asshole. 

“I am just. . . selective.” She tried to change the topic and Quentin decided to go along. 

“So that’s what we’re calling it now, huh?” They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“And on that lovely note, I think it’s time to clear the table!”, His mom announced. It was probably the best option, to cut them off now, he thought as he took some plates to the kitchen, ready to help his mom with the dishes.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Plum watched her dad go before turning back to Julia. “Do you think Eliot remembers Dad?” It was a crazy thought. Him and her dad. They seemed worlds apart, if not more. Her dad had always prefered their simple, calm life. Or he had pretended he did. 

“I’m sure of that.” Julia answered, “It wasn’t something you can easily forget.” Plum nodded, Teddy scooted closer to her. “And let me tell you something;” She looked over her shoulder, probably to make sure that they were the only ones in hearing distance, “I think your dad still might have feelings for him.”

They both gasped as their aunt brought a finger to her mouth, signaling that this wasn’t something their dad was allowed to hear. Which was why they stopped making any sounds when the door reopened and he came in to get more dishes. They could only hope he didn’t notice their unnaturally wide smiles. 

So her dad might have feelings for Eliot Waugh? Finally something she could work with.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Quentin had feelings for Eliot Waugh. He couldn’t decipher what kind of feelings, but they were certainly more than those one should feel for his best friend. Wasn’t that just great? The first person, after Julia, who actually liked him and he had to go form a stupid crush  _ again _. _

_ The problem wasn’t that Eliot was a guy, he was okay with that. His mother was bisexual herself and had explained exactly what it meant. It had always sounded logical to him: simply loving someone for who they were. He was only hoping that he didn’t love Eliot. _

_ It annoyed him more than anything. The crush he used to have on Julia had almost ruined their friendship to the point where he had to worry that they wouldn’t even talk to each other once they were out of middle school. The crush on Alice had made their new clique more than a little uncomfortable. The crushes he had had on Kady and, in retrospective, Penny had been a crazy fantasy at best: he was painfully aware that the two only spent any time with him because they liked Julia.  _

_ There wasn’t a single person in his friend group who hadn’t been the object of his affections at one point or another. Quentin was a person who fell way too easily, now all he had to do was to get up. _

_ Sadly the situation with Eliot was different. Eliot wasn’t there for someone else. Eliot didn’t turn him down. Eliot wasn’t shy or awkward around him. He actually seemed to like Quentin more than anyone else in their little group of friends and to Quentin that feeling was intoxicating. _

_ So when Eliot was sitting right there, on the middle of Quentin’s bed, legs crossed and numerous dark locks obscuring parts of his face? Quentin could only hope the other boy would take his staring for something else. Especially when Eliot had looked at him, all flustered and busy averting his eyes, talking about something he wanted to admit to Quentin, something he hadn’t ever told anyone else.  _

_ Quentin’s heart had never beat as fast as his mind repeated: Please be into guys, please be into guys, please be into guys, god, please be into  _ me;  _ over and over again, like a mantra.  _

_ Eliot telling him about his songwriting had only been a slight disappointment, even less when he suggested he could play one for Quentin. He had found his mum’s old guitar in a matter of seconds, handing it over to the boy on his bed.  _

_ “Uhm- these are probably really really bad.”, Eliot had told him, clearly doubting if his offer had been a good idea. “Like I said- I never showed anyone so this is really the first time I’m getting a second opinion so. . . please don’t make fun of me?”  _

_ Quentin had reassure him that there was no way the songs could be bad- Eliot was a genius in music class and him being great in theory made it impossible for him to be awful in practice, in Quentin’s humble opinion. He also promised that even if it was the most ridiculous song in the world- he could never make fun of something Eliot was passionate about. Then Quentin reminded himself that this crush was something he shouldn’t make obvious since he didn’t want their friendship to suffer, so he stopped talking and leaned back to listen. _

_ The moment Eliot sang the first note, Quentin knew he was a goner. Whatever these confusing feelings were? They’d stick.  _

_ It took Quentin a moment to be able to actually listen to the words Eliot was singing. It was a shame, really, that he didn’t pay enough attention to the first few lines, especially when the last line had sunk in. _

_ “all that matters now is _

_ you hearing my song” _

_ Quentin, on an intellectual level, was aware that the song was not about him. The person Eliot was addressing could be anyone, from pretty girl at their school to a mere construct made up in a young artists mind. On an emotional level, though, Eliot came to him, told him his secret, suggested he would play this particular song for him and made hope flare up inside him.  _

_ This might still be a confession, Quentin thought as he listened to a song about dreams and confusion, being lost and found by the right person. He whipped along to the chorus, joined the giggle that escaped Eliot’s mouth when he sang about dreams being “fucking crazy”, tried to give Eliot an encouraging smile when he noticed how nervous he still was, but the other boy never once looked up from his fingers.  _

_ Quentin didn’t even know what to say, when Eliot finished and their eyes finally met again. That this was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his entire life? That he wanted Eliot to keep singing to him forever? That he was hopelessly in love with him and the song had made it even worse?  _

_ "You use swear words?" He said instead and laughed. It wasn't such a bad call, since it broke the tension between them.  _

_ "Oh yeah, I am a serious artist with mature content." Eliot grinned at him. "You wouldn't know, I mean, you are basically a child and I am basically an adult." Eliot had always made comments like these, even though he was only around 10 months older than Quentin. It usually resulted in teasing or play fighting. Quentin had thought about that, but being this close to Eliot right that moment made him feel weirdly nervous. He could only hope those feelings would subside eventually, since he really didn’t want to be nervous around Eliot.  _

_ “You have been a 15 year old for 3 weeks now, Waugh, don’t test my patience”, he started and Eliot immediately started shielding himself with the guitar, yelling “Don’t attack me, this might be valuable!” _

_ “We could just put the guitar away again, or. . .”, he scratched his ear, looking up at the other boy. “Or you play your song again. Practice makes perfect after all, not that it wasn’t perfect already, I mean, you’re amazing, I-” He paused, realising he’d fallen back to incoherent rambling. “I really like your music.” _

_ Eliot smiled and looked away again. “Well, if you are interested, I have some more songs”, He suggested and Quentin nodded, eagerly. When Eliot started singing, he made himself comfortable on the bed, closing his eyes to pay even better attention to every word, every single note Eliot was playing or singing. _

_ He could do this for hours, he thought. For days even, maybe forever. Was this what love felt like? _

  
  



	3. Chapter Three

Quentin looked at the batch of christmas cookies. He was feeling weirdly proud of himself, they looked delicious. Plum was grinning at him, wearing an apron that matched his own and holding up a glass of milk. He had to admit they probably wouldn’t have turned out as great as they did without her help, but that fact didn’t make him mad at himself for once.

This had always been one of their favourite christmas traditions and there was no way he’d let his negative thoughts ruin it for him. They sat down next to Teddy, everyone took a cookie and a glass of milk. 

“Aaaand, dunk!” Quentin announced before the three of them did just that, biting into their milk soaked cookie and grinning.

“These are so good!” Teddy praised and Quentin nodded. Plum did the same. “I think they might be the best ones we’ve ever made!” They laughed and proceeded to eat their cookies in silence.

Well, almost silence. They had christmas music playing on shuffle and Quentin realised who the singer was before he even sang a single note, already familiar with the soft piano sounds. “That’s Eliot’s new christmas Album.”, his daughter explained as if he wasn’t already painfully aware of that.

“Well, the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself!”, He announced, getting up from the couch. He might need a new avoidance tactic soon, he did not know how long this was going to keep working. Especially not when Plum used the opportunity to trail after him. At least she helped, putting the dirty dishes into the sink.

“Auntie Julia said that he was your first love.” Oh there it was, the topic he had managed to avoid for days. He was hoping he could avoid it just for a bit longer when he asked 

“Who?”. 

“Eliot.” His daughter answered, clearly signalling that she would not deal with his Bullshit right now. 

“We went to high school together.” He stated. That was it, that was what had happened and nothing more. It had happened a long time ago, no reason to dwell.

“Auntie Julia said you still love him.” That was it, Quentin was going to murder her. There was no other way this could end. 

“Well, Auntie Julia is a childish idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about love.” He bit his tongue, noticing that this had been way too harsh to say in front of his daughter, no matter how upset he was.

“So you admit you loved him?” This kid was too smart for her own good. Or, rather, his good. It was just impossible to trick her. 

“I did.” He sighed. ”Now, everyone has a first love.” He added, trying to salvage what he could. “He was mine.” He closed his eyes, hoping PLum wouldn’t realise how much he still cared.

“Did he love you back?” His daughter asked, clearly intrigued. That wasn’t a question he was prepared to answer. Did Eliot love him? He had said so, for sure, but did he actually? If he would have loved him back, truly loved him, would he have behaved the way he had? 

“I like to think so.” He answered. Mostly, because thinking the opposite wasn’t something he wanted to do. “Falling in love is confusing, and exciting all at the same time.” He wanted to be honest with her, but he had to make sure that what he wouldn’t traumatize her, too. “You will learn that eventually, in the very very distant future.” They smiled at each other.

“I think love is the best thing that can happen to a person.” She said, head placed in her hand, lost in thought. Quentin really hoped she wouldn’t grow up too fast, learn about all the negative aspects of it. He loved how full of hope his daughter was.

“It really is.” He reassured her. “And I was lucky enough to find it twice.” He could still see how hard she was thinking, the gears turning in her head. Even though he was annoyed by the fact that he had to confront his own feelings like this, he really loved her sense of wonder and her willingness to learn. 

“How old were you?” She continues asking, “Like- when does all of this even start?” Quentin almost wanted to lie and tell her he was 25 or something, so she wouldn’t have to worry about it, but he knew that being honest would always be a better solution. 

“It’s different for everyone, so I can’t really answer that question. Personally, I was 15 years old.” He started telling the story and there was no way of going back now. 

“We went to see a movie, with a couple of friends.”

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ “Julia this is the dumbest plan.” Quentin loved her, he really did, but all the drama involving Kady and Penny? It had to stop.  _

_ “We just need to strengthen our friendship! All of us. We can be a real clique again, like in the old times before shit got complicated.” It wasn’t his fault that Julia had to fall for both of them. It especially wasn’t his fault that she had started acting weird and jealous around them after they did, to the point where they had distanced themselves from her. Heck, they didn’t even like him! _

_ “Come on, it’ll be fun! I have planned the whole thing. I sit with them, we have a good time and things get back to the way they were. You take Eliot and we let Alice take Arielle, you know, the new girl she befriended? So everyone is occupied, but it doesn’t seem like I planned having their attention on me because, well, I wouldn’t have invited 4 more people if I did!” Maybe he could find a way to get out of this. Spend the day with Eliot, watching TV or listening to some records. Or even better, Eliot playing his own music for him. _

_ “Come on Q! I have already planned the whole thing, I have a seating arrangement. There are sketches, do you want to see them?” He sighed.  _

_ “No it’s fine, I’m in.” She grinned. “But you owe me.” _

  
  


❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“So I decided to do something crazy”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ This wasn’t so bad after all. Quentin was seated in the middle of the row, Julia on one side of him, Penny and Kady following and Eliot on the other, along with Alice and Arielle. Eliot and him were the once turned to each other, though, not letting themselves be distracted by the people around them.  _

_ “This is a fun group.” Eliot had said. “We should do this more often.” Quentin snorted at the comment. “No one is paying attention to us”, he said. "It’s as if we went alone." _

_ “Yeah it is.” Eliot responded. Quentin wasn’t sure what he meant by that, he certainly didn’t seem to mind that fact, but Eliot turned his attention to the screen before he could continue the conversation. Quentin was starting to get sick of this.  _

_ He noticed Eliot’s gaze lingering on him for just a bit too long, noticed how he always invaded his personal space, even though he hated being close to anyone else. Maybe it was Quentin’s imagination but maybe, just maybe it was something else. Maybe Eliot felt the same way he did, maybe he at least felt something similar. _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“It took me all my courage, but halfway through the movie, I reached for him and I took his hand.” He showed Plum, holding his hand out to her and squeezing it tightly. “And what happened?” His daughter asked, immersed in the story her father was telling. 

“He didn’t let go.”

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Quentin wanted to act like this wasn’t a big thing, wanted to concentrate on the movie, or on the silent conversations his friends held outside of Quentin and Eliot’s little bubble, but he couldn’t.  _

_ He was holding Eliot Waugh’s hand. A hand that waved at him and wrote him dumb notes, a hand that made the most beautiful sounds escape from his mom’s guitar. In his. Holding him tightly, not letting go and he knew, he just knew he wasn’t imagining this anymore this was real, this was happening and it could change everything. _

_ Quentin wanted to say something, turn to Eliot, talk about it , but when he actually looked over he saw Eliot nervously biting his lip. The other boy’s eyes were fixated on the movie, clearly on purpose. Quentin noticed that he was shaking slightly, the unoccupied hand balled into a tight fist. _

_ He played with Eliot’s fingers, trying to calm him down. Suddenly Quentin felt incredibly proud of himself for being the brave one and making the first move. It was obvious that Eliot would have been too timid to actually go through with something like this. _

_ None of that mattered, because Quentin was holding Eliot’s hand. He was thankful that this wasn’t a movie he had been excited to see, because his mind was busy thinking about what this meant. He started daydreaming about a whole life he and Eliot could live together, in the span of 45 minutes.  _

_ 45 minutes of Eliot’s hand in his and him being hyper aware of every time they readjusted, gripped tighter, started caressing or brushing over their fingers. They fit together like a puzzle, Quentin thought. This was right. _

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“I don’t even remember the rest of the movie I just. . . held his head and I smiled.” Quentin finished. He couldn’t even bring himself to push down the emotions bubbling up from the story. Plum didn’t look as convinced.

“Holding hands with a boy during a movie? Thanks I’d rather eat popcorn.” That was probably for the best, he thought, patted her on the head and said “Good!” The longer she’d wait to lose her heart to someone the better. He regretted the thought almost immediately. His daughter had been right, love  _ was  _ one of the best things that could happen to a person. He just really didn’t want her to grow up so fast. 

Eliot’s version of Jingle Bells was still playing in the background. He had barely kept anything from the traditional song, but Quentin liked it a lot. So did Plum apparently. “Did Eliot always have such a beautiful voice?” she asked.

Quentin was still lost in his memories. “Everything about Eliot was beautiful.” It was true, it didn’t matter if he was a shy kid, not even able to handle holding a hand or a confident superstar whose voice blasted through Quentin’s house while he cleaned up his kitchen.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Plum made sure that her dad was sound asleep, before sneaking out of her and into her brother’s room. She had to be careful, this late into the night, every little sound she made sounded like some natural catastrophe occurring right inside of their home. It took her forever to actually reach her brothers bed and gently shake his shoulder. 

He bolted upright soon enough. “Am I late to school?” he blurted out, almost panicking. Plum shook her head, sitting down next to him. “No, that’s not it.” she said, turning on the light.

“Then what is it?”, he was rubbing his eyes, staring at her in utter confusion. 

“I have a plan. ‘Operation date for dad’.” She placed the paper she held next to her on the bed. Theo still didn’t look like he had properly woken up. 

“Who wants to date  _ dad? _ ” Plum had to shake her head. She knew her brother was young, but how dense could he be? He’d been right there with her while her father had been telling stories all day. 

“Eliot of course.” 

This finally made her brother fully wake up. “Eliot as in-”

“Eliot as in Eliot Waugh.”

“but he’s-”

“He and dad used to be in love. They can be again.”

“But Plum he-”

“I’m serious.”

“But he is like the biggest star in the world! how are we supposed to-”

Plum held the paper up. It was a cut out page from a magazine, advertising Eliot’s new album and an invitation to- “He’s having a CD signing in Manhattan. We can meet him there.” She was rather proud of the plan, herself. “I did some research and found the easiest way to get there.” Turning the paper around, she revealed post it’s and a marked map. There had been a lot of thought poured into this plan.

Her brother still didn’t seem to be convinced. “Dad will never go. No way.” She was happy to learn her brother wasn’t as dense as he could come of sometimes. Even he had picked up on the unresolved tension between the two, how much his dad was trying to ignore the existence of the other man. 

It only made her more sure that what she was doing was right. “Dad won’t. But we will.” Her brother’s eyes went wide with shock. She had braced herself for this kind of reaction already, Theo was still a little kid after all, but she wouldn’t be able to pull this off alone. Also his cute chubby cheeks could be a great weapon if the need would arise.

“But it’s in another state!” he yelled and she had to shush him. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up her dad. 

She pointed back to the map in her hand, granted, it was a small one but still, the distance they had to cross wasn’t even as big as her hand. “It’s just over the bridge!” Theo still didn’t seem to agree with her. 

“I don’t wanna lie to dad.” And there they were, those big adorable puppy dog eyes that got him almost everything he wanted. She really hoped he could do that on command, it would surely come in handy. 

“Look, mum died years ago and he has been lonely ever since.” She didn’t like bringing her up while talking to her brother alone, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “He  _ needs  _ to find love again. And he is not getting any younger.” Her brother sighed. “Also I have a great plan, technically there won’t be any lying involved!” He just sighed again, louder this time. “We can stop by the mall and you can see Santa?” She tried.

He thought about it, for what seemed like several full minutes, tilting his head from one side to the other, considering and reconsidering until he finally nodded. “Well, if it’s a good plan. . . let’s get dad a boyfriend!”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

And what a good plan it was. After their dad had dropped them off at school, they had walked over to the bus stop. Inside of Plums bag was most of the money the siblings had saved up, so they could buy a CD, bus tickets and some more for an emergency cab. It had been easy to convince Theo to give some of it up, Christmas would be soon enough and they could get anything they wanted then.

“Stop worrying. If my calculations worked we’ll be back by two. Dad will never know!”, she told Theo, as they approached the big, intimidating building, labelled White Spire Records. 

“I don’t think your calculations included this many people.” Theo answered. He did have a point, she surely didn’t expect the mass of people crowding the place. Why would she, it was 11 am, didn’t these people have to work?! They tried to sneak past them, but a man in a suit stopped them. 

“Hey, little miss, you have to get to the end of the line.” She quickly mumbled an apology and moved on with Theo, walking past the endless rows of people. When they still hadn’t found the end after ten whole minutes of walking, she stopped. 

“Maybe we should just go home.” Theo said, looking devastated. This gave her an idea.

“No, we can’t give up on this. It’s fate.” He looked at her, questioningly and she pulled out the magazine she was reading back on the bus. “Look at this! Eliot just broke up with his boyfriend weeks ago! It’s the perfect timing, there has to be a reason for all of this. Can you just play along? Please, Theo?” 

Her brother nodded reluctantly and she pulled him along, running back to the entrance. Thankfully, someone had replaced the old security guard there. She let Theo look up at him with the saddest eyes he could muster. “I’m sorry sir,” She started, “But our mum is inside and we really need to get back to her.” 

“She is going to FREAK OUT!” Theo added, a bit too over the top, but at least he got the spirit. The guard looked around. “Well I don’t think that’ll be a problem, you kids better find her.”, he said and let them through.

She took her brothers hand and hurried inside, before something else could stop them, right up to the table where Eliot was sitting. Theo muttered “Wow the sweater really  _ does  _ fuck”, but she did not have the time to warn him not to swear, because there was Eliot Waugh sitting right there in front of her and smiling warmly.

Another thing she didn’t take into consideration: she was absolutely starstruck, because  _ Eliot Waugh was sitting right there in front of her.  _ “Do you want to get an album signed or just. . . keep staring?” The woman sitting next to him asked. Theo handed her one, he had probably picked it up while Plum had been busy just. . . processing. Why hadn’t she planned what to say beforehand?

“Don’t listen to her.” Eliot said, taking the album from her. “What are your names?” This was the moment, she realised, she could tell him her last name and he’d recognize it and- and what? Maybe this plan wasn’t as good as she had thought after all. 

“Maybe they don’t speak english?” The woman tried when Plum stayed silent. “Buongiorno, tiny people. Est-ce que vous avez-” She didn’t react and the woman started again. “Nombre? Namen? Imena? Pong?” 

“Stop it, Margo they’re surely not  _ klingon. _ ” Eliot saved them. “I’ll just sign them okay?”, he asked them, with a lot more kindness in his voice than the woman had had.She liked him, Plum decided, for real, not just as the man in those magazines. 

“Do you want me to take a picture of this incredibly awkward moment?” The woman asked and instead of telling them what she was really here for she said “I don’t have a camera. Or a phone.” It didn’t matter because a picture was  _ not  _ what she was there for, but for some reason she just couldn’t say that out loud.

“Happens to the best of us”, the woman went on. “Don’t worry, you’ll cry, but life goes on.” Eliot gave the woman a disapproving look before turning back to the two of them with a bright smile. “Don’t listen to her. Here are your CD’s, happy holidays and thanks for coming by!” A phrase he had probably repeated a million times that day, Plum thought.

He had to realise that they weren’t ordinary fans, they were helpers of destiny and they had to let him know that but the line was already moving on, the next person was asking for a CD and they took some steps away, missing their chance.

No, Plum thought, she’d come way too far to give up now. 

“MY NAME IS PLUM COLDWATER.” Eliot turned back to her, looking confused, but now his attention was on her. “My dad’s Quentin Coldwater. He was your highschool sweetheart.” There was dawning realisation on his face as she went on.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that. . .” The woman told him and he nodded, slightly. “Uhm, yeah I- I remember Q.” Now he seemed to be the one not knowing what to say, looking back from them to the woman and back. He looked nervous, all of the sudden, almost helpless. “Tell him I said Hi.” He continued and his face fell. “And... happy holidays.”

Plum took her brother’s hand and stormed away. God what had she been thinking? That Eliot would go with them? Stop whatever he was doing to run after an old flame because some children told him to?

She didn’t see or hear the woman asking Eliot “Oooh, who Is Quentin Coldwater?” She didn’t see how fast Eliot told her to “Please go get them” When they had stormed away, not even explaining why “Just go.”

  
  



	4. Chapter Four

“It’s okay.” Theo told her as they were slowing down. “Please don’t start crying.” She wouldn’t, she had roped her little brother into this stupid mistake, she couldn’t just break down now, no matter how hard it was for her to admit when she had done something stupid. 

“He probably thinks I’m crazy”, she told him, and then, more sincerely, “I just wanted dad to have someone to love this christmas. I hate that he’s so alone.” Her eyes were filling up with tears and she reminded herself she couldn’t cry, not right now, when she heard a loud shriek and a “There you are! Stay”, right behind her.

It was the woman from before, the one who had sat next to Eliot. “Kids! Listen, these are stilettos, they are  _ not  _ made for sprinting.” Plum had to agree that those shoes looked anything but comfortable. 

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to upset anyone.” Theo started saying, looking genuinely concerned, but the woman waved him off. “My ego’s not that fragile I can deal. hope you can, too, because Eliot really wants to talk to you.” So maybe the plan didn’t go all wrong after all. 

They walked past the crowds into a back room, filled with posters, decoration and most importantly: a ton of candy and other snacks. After they waited for a couple of minutes, whipping up and down nervously, the woman- Margo, Eliot had called her, rolled hair eyes at them. "Help yourselves, this isn't Oliver Twist." she sighed.

Plum wondered how she could have ever questioned her own plans. Not only did Eliot want to talk to them, the food was delicious and even though Margo seemed a bit scary, she could be quite nice when she took pity on them. The only thing still worrying her was the ticking clock in the corner of the room. This was taking a lot longer than she had expected. It was hard to think about the consequences this could have, though, when they were waiting for their favorite singer to talk to them in person.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

  
  


_ At this point, Quentin had to ask himself if Julia’s friendship was worth the hassle. Yes, he loved her, she was his oldest friend yadda yadda yadda- but another stunt like this and she would be out of the picture. _

_ To understand why this was bothering Quentin so much, one needed to understand how carefully he had crafted his plan for Junior Prom. Not just the Prom itself, while he was part of the committee he was more of a helping hand than a planner- instead he had planned the perfect evening for him and his friends, the perfect mix of group activity and romance. _

_ Because unlike Julia, Quentin wasn’t an assshole and even though he was in a committed relationship and could have easily spent his entire evening in his boyfriend’s arms instead of trying to take care of everyone, he did. Two Limos, one for him and Eliot and one for Julia, Alice, Arielle, Kady and Penny, had been organised to take them to the school that evening. _

_ It was a master plan, really, he could have his sickeningly sweet moments with Eliot, when he came to his house to pick him up. It would be proper and romantic and one of the few moments in which they weren’t two people in a friend group, but an actual  _ thing. _ He desperately wanted that experience, even though he would happily rejoin the rest of their friend group just outside of the school property, especially if Penny had really managed to sneak them a couple of beers, like he promised. Then they’d all spend a great evening together, in friend and companionship, dancing, drinking, laughing and some day telling their grandchildren stories about that one perfect prom. The best of both worlds. _

_ Quentin’s life could never be that simple, he realised, when Julia called him less than an hour before Eliot would arrive. She explained her dilemma quickly, not letting him interfere even once.  _

_ “Uhm- this will sound crazy but, remember when I told you I am kinda into Penny and Kady? As in both? Yeah, they just got back together earlier and they told me and Alice- we were hanging, don’t feel excluded I know you would have said no, since apparently you need more time to get ready than me-” It was unfair, Quentin didn’t get ready the way she did, he didn’t put on makeup or choose accessories, he just paced around his room for hours, hoping everything would go according to plan. _

_ “So they told me and I- I swear I wasn’t jealous, just confused because this was so sudden and everything was going so well while we were all single?” Yeah, that was utter bullshit. “And of course it would have disrupted your plan so naturally I wasn’t a fan. They misinterpreted I guess and we had this discussion and- I might be in a relationship now? With both of them?” That was. . . interesting to say the least. _

_ “Long story short, apparently we have made Alice a bit uncomfortable so she noped out of the ride with us and now we’re stuck with Ari? You know I don’t mind her- she’s great, but I feel like us being alone with her would be so awkward now? It’s all still so fragile and I need to prove to them that it would work so- can you please do me a favor and pick her up?” Oh no. _

_ Oh hell no. This would ruin everything, his entire plan, his entire evening. He could not agree to this. “Please, Q” Julbegged and before he could think better of it he had already agreed, knowing that if he ruined this for her, her sour mood would spoil the evening anyway. She thanked him a hundred times and hung up. H could hear Penny and Kady cheering in the background.  _

_ Just great.  _

_ There was no time to get anxious now, no matter how much he wanted to throw himself onto his bed and scream into his pillow. He only had a bit more than half an hour left until Eliot would ring the doorbell and his suit was still hanging in the closet. _

_ Time was fleeting and sooner than later he could hear the familiar tone, paired with his mother telling him to get out of his room, Eliot was here and they needed to take pictures. He would have gladly skipped that last part. Cameras and him just didn’t match and it took him all his willpower to not make a face in every shot. _

_ When he saw Eliot, he could finally stop worrying for a second. His boyfriend looked stunning in a black suit with deep purple accents, his curls slicked back and- was that eyeliner? Just the tiniest bit of black adorning his hazel eyes, Quentin couldn’t believe he had pulled it off. While he talked about wanting to change his usual style, mostly flannel and t-shirts, to something more impressive, it wasn’t an easy task. Not with his parents, looming over him, currently thinking their son was on his way to pick up Julia, who had promised to shoot some alibi pictures with Eliot later that evening.  _

_ Quentin loved that Eliot had managed to do this, to be the person he wanted to be, if only for one evening. They’d work on it, Quentin would help him achieve his dreams eventually, but this wasn’t the night to think about all those problems, there were enough at hand already, and he’d much rather concentrate on the big beautiful bouquet of roses Eliot was holding. _

_ “Hey.” He said softly, when Quentin came down the stairs to where Eliot was standing, already being swarmed by Quentin’s parents. “You look great.”  _

_ “Thank you, you too.” He was pretty sure he was blushing when he took the flowers, smelling them, before his mother rushed around him, taking them into a vase so they’d stay fresh while he was having his fun night out. Eliot took his hand, he didn’t even notice the cameras flashing around them and then he led him outside, his parents wishing him a good night. For a brief moment the world seemed perfect.  _

_ Then he saw the limo waiting for them and remembered how that wasn’t the case.  _

_ "What is it?" Eliot asked, when he saw the face Quentin made. _

_ "Nothing, just, well something." He groaned. "We gotta pick up Arielle." _

_ "Jules bailed?" _

_ "Uh huh" _

_ "So I guess she Penny and Kady are official now?" Sometimes Quentin almost forgot how smart his boyfriend was. Not even he had expected this development and he was Julia's best friend, for fucks sake. _

_ "Yup. . ." _

_ "Well, I'm happy for them. They were making themselves miserable." He was probably right, the tension in their friend group hadn't been something you couldn't work through, but it couldn't really be healthy, in the long run. Still, Quentin wished they could have taken a couple more hours to figure it out. _

_ “I guess I am too. . .” He paused. “I was just really looking forward to this ride with  _ you _. Yes, he did realise how extremely selfish he sounded now, but this was Eliot and he didn’t have to worry about behaving like a god person in front of him, he knew what he had gotten into when he decided to be his boyfriend. _

_ Instead of judging him, Eliot pulled him close against his chest and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Hey, I get that, but it’s just a twenty minute ride.” He was right, Eliot was right, it didn’t matter, he’d just had a plan and now everything would be different again and it made his head hurt and- “I’m gonna make sure you have the most amazing evening later, Q. We’re gonna drink and have fun with our friends and I am going to seduce you with my slow dancing skills, it’s gonna be great.” _

_ He couldn’t possibly mean that. They weren’t exactly in the closet at school, usually flying under everyone’s radar anyway made that unnecessary. This was different than lingering hugs or quick kisses, though, this couldn’t be as easily overlooked. Quentin knew what kind of risk that would be for Eliot, he had met his dad after all. _

_ “No, El, you don’t have to do that for me.” Quentin said and Eliot squeezed his hand.  _

_ “I want to.” Quentin wanted to object, but Eliot didn’t let him. “No, if I can’t be sappy in the limo, I’m going to be sappy on the dancefloor.” It was a ridiculous thought, Eliot of all people, on the dancefloor. “It might be step one of me becoming myself. I thought it through, I’m so close to being eighteen, if my parents throw me out I could manage. It might be for the better. It’s gonna be our last year of school, soon enough.” Yeah, and that was what worried Quentin, not that he could tell Eliot, who looked thrilled by the idea. “I’m sick of hiding, Q, and I won’t have to, for much longer. Life is starting, everything is gonna change.” He smiled, squeezing his hand a second time. _

_ Still, Quentin couldn’t help but think: what if I don’t want it to? _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Hanging out with Arielle turned out to be a lot of fun. Quentin had to admit how wrong his earlier feelings about the situations had been, almost as soon as she jumped into the car wearing a stunning green dress. It looked expensive, but she had just carelessly let herself fall into her seat, apologizing about interrupting them. _

_ Eliot had made a joke about it and she got back at him just as quickly, soon enough the ice was broken and the rest of the drive had been spent laughing and talking, truly getting to know each other after years of coexisting in the same group of friends.  _

_ The time they all spent together in front of the school had been even more fun. The beer Penny had organized them was cheap and none of them really appreciated the taste, but the thrill of doing something forbidden and the dizziness it brought made up for that. Well for most of them, Eliot had forced a couple of gulps down before handing his portion to Quentin. “Yeah thanks, I’ll pass.” He had explained and told them alcohol might just not be his thing. _

_ This lead to Quentin drinking for two. So when they actually entered the prom, his steps weren’t as coordinated as they ought to be, gladly it was nothing they couldn’t run past the supervisors, even if it meant his friends had to form a circle around him. _

_ Things only went to shit when everyone split up. Julia, Kady and Penny left to have fun on the dance floor as soon as they entered and Alice and Arielle wanted to grab something to eat, leaving Quentin and Eliot to themselves.  _

_ The alcohol seemed to kick in even more and Quentin buried his head- or rather his forehead, damn this boy had grown tall- in the crook of Eliot’s neck. After a moment of confusion he felt his boyfriend’s arms wrap tightly around his body. “You okay there, Q?” _

_ He nodded, even though he could feel his eyes filling up with tears. “I just love you so much. So so so so much.” This wasn’t what he really wanted to tell Eliot, but his words felt limited and that was what it all boiled down to.  _

_ Eliot placed a warm kiss on his hair. “I love you, too. But you seem upset” _

_ What was he supposed to say? His head was swimming and words weren’t getting out and he was scared. So scared that even Eliot’s tight embrace didn’t manage to make him feel safe. “I don’t wanna lose you” There it was. “I love you so much I can’t-” A sob escaped his throat. “I can’t lose you.” _

_ Eliot’s hands gripped his face, making him look up into his own. “I’m right here.” He didn’t understand- why didn’t he understand? “I am not gonna leave you, Q.” But he was, wasn’t he? Someday. “You don’t look too good.” The music was loud, way too loud to bear. “I think you need some water.” And the lights- too bright. Confusing. Were they what made his vision so blurry? Was he crying? Was it the alcohol? “And something to eat. I’ll get you that okay.” The crowd around him made it even worse, so many people he felt as if they were closing in on him. “Can you wait here for me? Just stay here I swear I will be back in a minute.” _

_ Quentin nodded and just like that Eliot was gone. He was hurrying, of course he was, Quentin gave him all the reasons to be worried. Or maybe he just wanted to get away from him, his brain supplied. That was what was happening after all, Eliot couldn’t wait to get away. Christ, Quentin was pathetic. _

_ He was also ruining everyones night, wasn’t he? Had been from the start. He was the one insisting how things should go and throwing fits when plans changed, while everyone around him seemed perfectly fine with it. People were throwing him looks now, something he wasn’t used to, that made him feel a hundred times worse. _

_ He didn’t know if it was his own heart, thrumming so loudly, or if it was a choir of the heart’s of everyone surrounding him, everyone being alive and happy and normal. Maybe it was just the music. _

_ Eliot still hadn’t come back and that was all it took. He turned around and fled out of the gymnasium, out of the school until he reached the parking lot, where he sank to the floor behind some stranger’s car. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he hid is face behind his knees, letting the tears flow freely. _

_ Nothing happened for a while. The music sounded rather pleasant now, coming from afar. _

_ “Q?” He was both, relieved and terrified when he heard his friends calling out for him.  _

_ “QUENTIN?!” They were actually searching for him. And they sounded scared. Oh god. _

_ "Over here!" He raised a hand and adjusted his position to make it look more like he just wanted to slump down somewhere and less like he was having a mental breakdown.  _

_ Julia and Eliot where the first to reach him, but Alice and Arielle followed soon after, even Kady and Penny looked worried. "Quentin what the fuck?!" Julia started, but he quickly cut her off.  _

_ "I'm sorry, I just really needed some fresh air.” Penny rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at the unnecessary drama this had created. Eliot didn't look convinced, neither by his words nor by the chuckle he had let out. But since he had been the only one witnessing his behaviour shortly before his disappearance, he was also the only one not falling for him now.  _

_ Quentin had even managed to fool Julia, who was ruffling through his hair. "Didn't know you were such a lightweight. She sank down next to him, the dark blue fabric of her dress spilling over the dirty grey parking lot floor. _

_ "What's going on, Quentin?" Eliot wasn't letting him off that hook as easily, was he? "I know something's worrying you." Kady and Penny were already throwing each other glances, probably wondering if this was their cue to leave. _

_ "Honestly? I'm just very emotional."  _

_ "Yeah what else is new?" Wow when did Alice become sassy?  _

_ He scoffed at her comment and went on. "Next year is going to be our last year." The only reaction he got were hesitant nods, of course everyone was aware of that already. "But I feel like you guys don't realise- it's our _ last year. _ " _

_ "Well, thank God." Was all that Eliot answered, because of course, of course everyone was happy about high school ending. Why wouldn't they- high school was hell. There were a million reasons to be happy about its end.  _

_ Quentin himself only had one reason to not want that. "I'm afraid that we'll grow apart.” The tension died down a little. This was just the same old with Quentin, he had been dropping comments about them having to make the best of the time they had left, and similar things for the last couple of months. No one really took him seriously, they appreciated the sentiment, but Quentin was clearly the only one hearing the constant ticking of a clock, their time together running out. “Seriously. I don’t know what I will do without you guys.” _

_ “Maybe we should leave. . .” Arielle noted, looking at Kady and Penny. “Let you sort this out-” _

_ “No.” Quentin interrupted. “No you don’t need to do that. Also I care about you guys too, you know? I care about all of you” It might have been the first time he had seen Kady smile at something he had said. Not because he did something dumb, but because she was genuinely touched by his words. Even Penny had abandoned his usual scowl.  _

_ “I probably won’t ever repeat this again, but you’re good people, Coldwater.”Julia looked positively delighted at her best friend and her boyfriend finally getting along.  _

_ Eliot stooped down and took Quentin’s hand. “I already told you that’s not gonna happen.” Everyone seemed to agree. _

_ “I love you idiots way too much!” Julia chimed in. _

_ “Ditto.” That was Arielle. _

_ “You are probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” Alice _

_ “Do you know how long it takes me to actually find people I can stand?!” Kady. _

_ “Ditto” Penny scoffed.  _

_ Quentin used Eliot’s hand to pull himself up, helping Julia to do the same once he was done. He knew this wouldn’t solve the underlying issue he was worried about: Penny was a traveler, Kady was adventurous, Julia would follow them to the end of the world if they stayed together, especially considering her own need to explore and learn. He had no idea what Arielle wanted to do with her life and he had learned that spending time with her was fun, but he doubted it would be enough. Alice was already applying for some crazy environmentalist project in Scotland and Eliot? All he wanted to do was run away. Quentin was the only one comfortable in their world, with their life.  _

_ Their words had calmed him though, for now. The acknowledgement that he wasn’t the only one who cared. Eliot handed him a glass of water. “Drink. You’ll feel better afterwards.” _

_ But it hadn’t been the alcohol, that made him feel like this. Those feelings had been bugging him the whole day, all the beer had done was opening up the door that had held them locked inside of his brain, letting them flow free.  _

_ He accepted anyway, even if all it did was make the lights and the music more tolerable. Everyone hugged him at least once, even Penny freaking Adiyodi, though that one was short lasted and when Quentin had finished the glass Julia suggested they should head back in, if he was up for it. _

_ “I think you still owe me a dance.” Eliot grinned. Yeah, he was up for it. He couldn’t stop time, but he could try to keep his spirits up, while it lasted.  _

_ His feelings didn’t act up again for the rest of the night. Instead of worrying he ate, his buzz quickly dying down, he marveled at the beautiful decorations, he danced with all his friends, making a fool of himself in front of people who didn’t mind and kept laughing and laughing until Eliot pulled him close. _

_ They danced together, still giggling at first, but more and more earnest as they proceeded. Eliot’s hand was on his waist and Quentin couldn’t believe that the boy he loved would ever dare doing something like that in public.  _

_ Then Eliot pulled him even closer. _

_ And kissed him. _

_ It felt infinite. _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

"Hello again." They heard coming from the door after a while and spun around in surprise. It was Eliot, still smiling that bright smile of his, which helped the nervousness die down a bit. "Don't mind me, you can continue eating."

"That won't be a problem." Margo scoffed and Plum had to admit that they might have overdone it with the food, but this wasn't a chance they could take anyday. Eliot didn't seem to mind.

"Hey Margo could you, uhm, maybe get us some hot chocolate? Please?" Margo didn't look too happy fetching something for the man, but Eliot could have rivaled Theo with the pleading look he threw her way and she gave in, leaving the room with the loud clicking of her heels against the floor accompanying her. "Sorry about Margo." Eliot continued, facing them. "She can be a little sarcastic sometimes, but she means well. Your name was Plum, right? And you?"

"Theodore." Her brother replied, staring up at his idol, clearly starstruck. The plan really was moving along perfectly.

"Wow, you look. . . so much like your dad. It's . . . weird." Eliot tilted his head. "Does he know you're here?" That was another question she wasn’t prepared to answer, so she figured the truth could always be a good option, too.

“Not exactly.” Eliot did not look happy when she told him, but he kept it together. “And your mother?”, he asked, still concerned. This was a question she was prepared for, not under these particular circumstances, but she had had to answer it way too many times before. 

“She died a couple of years ago.” At this point she had learnt to repeat the sentence without any emotion behind it. Eliot looked a lot more affected than she felt and that was when she remembered, even though they weren’t a thing back then, her mom went to highschool with her dad, too. There was a big chance Eliot knew her. 

“I’m sorry.” He said and the room filled with the awkward tension she had wanted to avoid. Everyone was staring at the floor, unsure of what to say next, when Theo- bless that child- broke the silence. “So, you wanted to talk to us?”

Eliot looked back up at them. “Oh yeah uhm, I just wanted to make sure if you have a safe way to get home, I guess.” Plum recognized the face he mad and she was sure that that wasn’t the only reason he had wanted to talk to them, but she went along with it.

“Oh, we’re taking the bus.” No need to mention the money for the emergency cab.

Eliot looked down at them. “Yeah that’s not gonna happen. My driver can take you. That’s better.” That  _ was _ better than taking the bus or a cab, but it wouldn’t help her plan move along like she’d hoped. 

“Thank you” Plum sad and Theo nodded along. 

“No, thank  _ you. _ ” Eliot answered. “For coming to see me, even though you shouldn’t do that again, but who am I to discourage young rebellion.” He laughed. “Please say hi to your dad for me, will you?” Eliot turned to walk away muttering a hesitant “Bye”

Yeah, now she was sure: Her dad was not the only one still harboring feelings for the other. This day was only getting better and better. 

“You’re my favorite singer!” Teddy yelled, making Eliot stop dead in his tracks and seriously,  _ bless this child _ , because now Eliot already looked flattered and it was easy to build on that.

“Thanks” he told him. “I really appreciate it” and before he could leave again Plum added,

“Well, you have a beautiful voice.” And then, “Dad said everything about you is beautiful.” She knew saying so was calling him out a bit, but she was sure he wouldn’t mind if the end results were him getting an amazing boyfriend like Eliot Waugh.

"Really?" She had seen Eliot surprised before, but this was better: this was stunned, disbelieving. "When did he say that?" Let Eliot think she was just an innocent child trying to compliment him and ratting her own father out completely unintentionally. He would learn how cunning she was soon enough, if he became an important part of their lives.

"Oh, last Saturday." She dropped it as if it meant nothing, but she didn't miss the interest that sparked up in Eliot's eyes, the way the polite smile turned into a genuine one, one you get from receiving good news.

Plum was  _ sure  _ her dad was not the only one still harbouring feelings. Everything was going just perfect.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“Hi, I’m calling in to see if two students have missed the bus. Yeah, Theodore and Plum Coldwater.” This couldn’t be happening. The woman on the phone told him how his children hadn’t even shown up at school that day- arguably a parent’s biggest fear. “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible-” He started when the door opened.

He basically launched onto his kids, hugging them close. “Hey, are you okay?” Quentin could feel them nodding and decided he might have to let them go if he wanted to have a serious conversation. They came home alone didn’t they? No police cars or ambulances in sight, so them being okay way a definite possibility. “You guys have some explaining to do.” 

“Dad, before you freak out-” 

“It was my fault.” Plum interrupted her brother. “I convinced Theo to skip school and go to Manhattan with me.” Quentin didn’t know how he should feel. On one hand he was incredibly happy and relieved they were okay on the other-

“You what?!” He was confused. “Why would you go to Manhattan?!”

“To see me.”

_ Oh- _

The voice came from behind his kids and he looked up to see a face he hadn’t seen in years. Not in person at least, he never thought he’d see Eliot Waugh in person ever again. But there he was, standing in the middle of the living room, a nervous smile dancing over his lips.

“Hey.”

  
  



	5. Chapter Five

“Hi, Eliot.” This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, some sort of hallucination, anything. He was seeing Eliot and his brain couldn’t match him into the surroundings, all of the sudden he was back to being 14 and pining. 

“I’m sorry. I took them home, it’s my fault they’re late.” Was he talking about his kids? Rationally, Quentin knew he was, but his mind still refused to accept them existing in the same space. And why did Eliot sound like he was taking the blame, shooting Plum a quick glance as if they had teamed up together somehow? “You can yell at me, if you want.”

“We were never in danger and I can explain!” His daughter chimed in.

“Plum, stop,” Quentin told her firmly. Things weren’t clear, but he did understand that his kids had somehow snuck out of school and  _ gone to Manhattan. _ “You two go to your room, you’re grounded for life.”

“What?! No I-” Teddy looked horrified, but his sister took over, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s fair dad.” She turned to Eliot, smiling broadly. “Thank you for the ride. And the CD!” That. . . was a weird reaction. Even Teddy seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Oh yeah, thanks Eliot. It was nice meeting you!” They hurried away- could it really be that easy? “Thanks, you too!” Eliot called after them, but they had already hurried up the stairs. Weird. He would need to get to the bottom of this, later.

Not that he was able to dwell on it- He was alone with Eliot now, the other man's focus solely on him. Quentin still couldn’t fully comprehend it. Eliot. He looked different, in real life. More like the Eliot he had known. “What’s it been -  _ fifteen years _ ? I can’t believe it’s been so long since we last saw each other!” he said, but all Quentin could concentrate on was how different his voice sounded. The difference was somehow worse in real life than hearing it through speakers. “How are you?”

Oh. Eliot was talking. To him. He should answer. “Oh I. . . I’m good.” Yeah, really creative, Quentin. The awkward silence following his statement was unbearable. Eliot was looking around, desperately searching for something he could talk about.

“So. . . You have a nice house.” It was strange that they were limited to small talk. He could remember times in which they used to talk about everything. 

“Oh thanks, you know I- I try. Cause- you know, it’s- it’s comfortable. And it keeps us warm I guess, you know, the way houses do, sometimes." What was he doing? Oh God what was he doing. "Do you want a cookie? You could dunk it or-”

“No thanks.” Eliot was biting his lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Great, Quentin was making an utter fool of himself. But how was this fair? Eliot had been allowed to prepare for this reunion, had talked to his kids, had gotten used to the idea. Quentin felt as if he’d just been dunked into a barrel of freezing water.

“Yeah of course, sorry I- I’m being stupid.” 

“No you’re not, Q.” Eliot said, but all that achieved was to bring the weird tension filled silence back. “So. . . the kids tell me you’re a teacher?” They did now, huh? Quentin had to wonder what else they had told him. Nothing to embarrassing, he hoped.

“Oh, yeah. At Brakebills High School.” He shrugged. That was him. Still in the same place Eliot had left him.

“Well, they’re lucky to have you.” Was he avoiding eye contact on purpose or was he just trying to escape this horrible situation? “You were always good in school.” Now Eliot finally looked up, just in time for Quentin to look away. 

“Yeah, so good I’m still there.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. It was supposed to be a joke but it sounded so _bitter._ _You went off to follow your dreams and left me here. I’m still here, I haven’t moved, I haven’t changed, but you? Look at you. You’re the opposite of stagnant._

So he tried saving the moment, talking about Eliot’s career with an extra broad smile to show him just how happy he was for him. “And you’re a singer!” Maybe the smile was too broad. “And they pay you!” It was an outdated joke. All Eliot had wanted to achieve was living his dream as a singer and earn enough money to be able to sustain himself. He was one of the world’s biggest stars now, of fucking course he was getting paid.

“Oh yes, they do.” Eliot looked back onto the floor. Quentin had trapped him in their High School mindset, he needed to change that. Maybe talk about something recent, something that showed Eliot that Quentin was aware who he was.

“I heard you won a golden globe.” Or did it sound like he was stalking him? Did he want to seem invested in Eliot’s life? On the other hand: Eliot won a fucking golden globe, it was a very public thing. Maybe Quentin was into award shows.

“Yes, and a grammy. . .” Quentin was aware of that, too. Not that he would admit it. “I had a couple of lucky years.” Another joke. Eliot was a lot better at this than him, he had to admit that.

“Wow do you have like. . . a trophy case you put those in, or?” He started to regret every decision he ever made that led him to this moment. If he only hadn’t begged his parents to not move to another school district when he was eleven none of this would be happening right now.

“No, I just put them on a shelf.” Eliot looked confused and  _ come on. _ It had been a long time ago but he of all people should know how awful Quentin was in social situations. He could make this so much worse.

“Well if you’re looking for one I got a great deal at IKEA-” Yup, that was him, Quentin Coldwater, walking awkward IKEA commercial for literal Millionaires. Billionaires? How much money did Singers even earn these days? “Not for me of course, for the school. But I put it together!” Eliot didn’t look all to impressed, which,  _ rude.  _ It wasn’t a grammy, yeah, but it was one of Quentin’s proudest achievements.

“I think i should maybe go.” Eliot pointed to the door. Yes, Quentin definitely messed this one up. “I don’t like leaving my driver waiting.” Oh god he had a fucking driver. “But, maybe be easy on the kids?” Eliot was already moving towards the door. “Life is a long time to be grounded for.”

“Well, I think in this case, the punishment fits the crime.” He had to suffer through whatever this conversation had been, his daughter wouldn’t ever see the light of day again. And for endangering herself and her brother of course. That should be the main reason.

They managed to laugh about it, aware that Quentin would cave to Plum after 24 hours, max. “It was nice to see you again, Q.” That one sounded sincere. The fact that there wasn’t any hostility between him and Eliot, even after this weird- whatever it was- made him feel all warm and fuzzy. This might be a bad thing, he realised, but he had already replied. “Yes. It was really nice to see you, too.” and could only hope his face wouldn’t betray him.

And why was Eliot getting closer to him again? “After all these years. . . you’re still exactly the same." He grinned and Quentin was relieved that Eliot knew this was just his dumbass self being embarrassing again. Just the way it always had been. Then Eliot decided to hug him goodbye and- oh god the warm feeling was getting worse.

Eliot still smelled the same. Sure, now the smell was mixed into other stuff, scents that might have cost hundreds of dollars and been made in Paris or Milan or wherever you get this fancy stuff from, Quentin couldn’t even  _ identify _ it. But underneath all that he was still his Eliot. He still gave the best hugs, or maybe they just still fit together so well- Quentin wasn’t sure. He still made his heart jump whenever he got close to him. Shit.

“Goodbye, Q.” And just like that, Eliot was gone again. He really made a habit of getting close to his heart before disappearing without a trace. Quentin lingered, watching how the door closed, ending this encounter once and for all. Or so he thought.

“I can’t” Where the hell did his daughter come from?! “Dad. A trophy case. You were in love with this guy for- I don’t even know how long and the best you got is talking about a trophy case?!” Did she eavesdrop the entire conversation?

“You don’t understand my severe levels of anxiety, okay?!” He said, since he appeared to have lost any filters he might have had, anyway.

“ _ I  _ DID A BETTER JOB!” Oh god did he even want to know what his daughter had told Eliot while unsupervised? Well, it couldn’t really get any worse now, could it?

“What did you say?” He still sounded stressed and he knew that he should probably be mad instead of encouraging her, but she was better at these things than he was.

“That you think everything about him is beautiful!” Oh. He could remember himself mentioning that at some point. 

“Wow that, that  _ is _ better I gotta admit.” If he would only be able to talk like this in front of Eliot, it would have saved them a lot of silence. And maybe he wouldn’t be cursing himself right now.

“Dad, he is still out there. Run.” Taking orders from your daughter, especially after the stunt she just pulled, wasn’t a thing he should be doing, but he desperately wanted to. This was his chance to get Eliot back into his life, maybe the only one he’d ever get. She was right. “Think of something better than IKEA!” she yelled after him, as he stormed out of the house.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

The car- a fucking limousine- had already started driving when he practically jumped in front of it. “Hey, stop!” It came to a quick halt and he found Eliot on the backseat, trying to figure out what was happening and opening the window when he spotted Quentin.

“I’m sorry.” Honesty. That would work. That had always worked with Eliot. “I wasn’t myself back there, I don’t know what happened.” Something shifted, they both looked at each other, this time for real and the tension was finally broken. 

“Honestly, I had already suspected that.” They laughed. It wasn’t a faked or polite or awkward laugh- it was them. 

“You just caught me off guard.” He really had. “Can we start over? Please? Pretend like none of this ever happened?” Begging wasn’t the most elegant solution to his problems, but it worked. 

“Yes. I’d like that.” The hope in Eliot’s eyes gave him the strength he needed. Come one Q, he told himself. You’ve been brave with Eliot so many times, you just need to do it again. 

“Do you want to get coffee?” That sounded too casual. “Or maybe dinner? With me? Sometime next week?” Oh oh, Eliot’s face- which had practically been glowing- fell.

“It’s kind of tough right now.”

Oh. Sure, Eliot didn’t want to date him anymore. What did he expect? Eliot wasn’t like him, he had grown, he didn’t wallow in the past. He surely wasn’t feeling the same love Quentin still had for him. “Right. I’m sorry, I just assumed-”

“No, not like that. I’d love to, I just have rehearsals for my christmas eve concert.” It was nice, how he tried to make Quentin feel better about it. 

“It’s fine. I get it.” He tried to smile again, but now it felt forced. 

“No, really.” Wow, Eliot really wanted to sell this. He could’ve become an actor, as well. “Q, I’m serious- how about tomorrow?” Say what now? “Tomorrow evening. Dinner, you and me. Are you free?”

“Yes.” Yes he wanted this, oh god, Eliot might really want this so of course it was a yes. “But no.” For a brief moment, he had forgotten that real life was a thing that existed. “I’ve got a play.” He frowned. “I mean, my students got a play, but I organised it and helped them rewrite so- I can’t really bail.”

“I could. . . come visit and we grab a bite afterwards?” So, Eliot really did want this? He wasn’t even taking the easy out Quentin was providing him with? 

“You wanna come to a high school play?” He probably didn’t understand how much second hand embarrassment those could bring. Or he felt up to it, after witnessing Quentin’s complete fall out from earlier. 

“Sure, why not?” Because the plays were supposed to be creative and fun. The students put their ideas into it, pop culture references, stuff he didn’t even fully understand after they explained it to him for the tenth time. It wasn’t really something they did for an audience, they did it for themselves.

“We’re awful. No one comes to see our plays.” It was true. It didn’t matter to them at all, they loved the experience either way, but even most parents had started to excuse themselves from showing up. The only fan they had who was not involved in creating the show, was this one dude who showed up every time telling them how he thought they were underappreciated art, though Quentin was pretty sure he was stoned most of the time. And Fen, but Fen was easy to win over, and they were her students, too, so it didn’t really count. 

“That sounds like you need my support, then.” Quentin wasn’t entirely convinced about this being a good idea, but Eliot seemed sure of himself. “It will be fun! We’ll have some time to catch up.” Who was he to say no to that. 

“In that case. . . I’ll text you with the details.” There was a smug grin on Eliot’s face when Quentin opened his mouth to ask for his number.

“My numbers already saved on Plum’s phone.” Quentin couldn’t imagine giving an eleven year old your private phone number was a good business decision, especially not if you were as famous as Eliot. How did his daughter convince him? Did she have some sort of secret superpower Quentin had yet to learn about? It would explain a lot.

“I can’t wait.” Eliot added, and  _ winked.  _ Who even was this guy?

“Great. Me neither.” Two could play this game. 

Eliot shook his head, and closed the car window. “Bye, Q”

“Bye.” He answered and watched the car drive away into the night. He hadn’t noticed before, but it had started to snow. Plum would love that.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ “Would you say you’re in love with Eliot?”  _

_ That wasn’t really a question Quentin was prepared to answer. Julia usually didn’t like to talk about Eliot too much, sometimes he even had to wonder if she was jealous. Not of their relationship, just of the time Quentin was spending with him instead of her now.  _

_ “Why are you asking?” It wasn’t an answer, but at least he had said something. _

_ “Because I’m confused, okay?” So it was about her. Yeah, that tracked. “I have these feelings for Kady and other feelings for Penny and they’re. . . not the same, exactly. It’s hard to explain, but maybe one of it is love and the other one. . . isn’t. You’re the writer can’t you explain how it feels?” _

_ “I can’t promise you it’s love.” They’d only been dating for a bit over a month. How long did it take for people to fall in love?  _

_ “The way you guys look at each other is convincing enough. Just tell me.” She got closer to him, face turning into a pout. “Pretty please? For me? Your best friend?”  _

_ He sighed and threw his head back. “Fine. But promise me you won’t laugh?” Her eyes were sparkling when she agreed to his conditions.  _

_ Quentin wasn’t able to look at her while he was explaining. “Being with Eliot is like. . . like the world just focused in on him. Everything else is background noise but he is clear and bright and colorful and. . . oh god this is so dumb.” _

_ “No, keep going, I think we’re onto something.” Was Julia just doing this to humiliate him? He was not so sure she wasn’t.  _

_ You got this Quentin, he told himself. It’s eyes closed hope for the best. “It’s the most overwhelming thing I’ve ever felt. The first week I barely slept or ate, because I simply forgot I needed to do these things to feel well. there was no way I could feel better than I already was. I still felt so good, happy and I know this is cliche but it really did feel like there were butterflies in my stomach.  _

_ “Or fire, sometimes. But that wasn’t my stomach, rather my heart, I guess. Or my skin when he touched me. I thought his body heat was off the charts, at first, that he might have a fever or something but it was me. He felt different to me than other people. Every touch lingered and I- _

_ “I want him to be happy. Whenever something makes him sad I feel it, as if it happened to me, only worse. I can’t see him hurt. Whenever he smiles the whole world lights up. And when he kisses me, nothing else exists.” _

_ Quentin stopped himself, feeling as if his words were overflowing. He was sure of two things, now. Number one: He face was burning red. And number two: He was definitely in love with Eliot Waugh. What else could this be?  _

_ “So?” he asked Julia,who was waiting for him to go on. There was no way he would, he had bared his feelings enough for one day, thank you very much. “Did that help you figure it out?” _

_ “Yeah,” she muttered, “I think I’m in love with both of them.” _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“What?” Eliot asked Margo, painfully aware of the suggestive looks she was throwing his way. 

“I’ve just not seen you this nervous since our first grammys.” She shrugged, biting her tongue. By now he had gotten used to award shows and the like, but in the beginning his nerves had nearly made him back out. He would never back out of this, though.

“I’m just a little nervous, mostly I am looking forward to this.” Lying to his Bambi didn’t work, so he had given up on it early on. She knew who he was, anyway, could only be slightly surprised by the fact that a date with a simple high school teacher drove him wilder than one with Hollywood’s finest- their usual crowd. 

“Hey, I’m sure he won’t be mad at you for being late.” Margo mentioned, which wasn’t exactly a thing he felt like discussing- he felt bad enough for it already.

“Well, the interview took longer than expected, what can I do?” Quentin would get it, he had always been understanding about everything regarding Eliot’s career- maybe a tad too understanding, considering how things ended between them, but this wasn’t a can of worms he’d be opening now.

“Maybe you can abstain from trying on every single item in your closet?” He rolled his eyes. He hadn’t tried on  _ everything _ , he had only looked into two closets, which, considering the massive amounts of clothing he owned, really wasn’t all too much- and even then he had only tried things on what had caught his eye. It had ended up being a whole heap of vests and another one of shirts, but it could have been a lot worse. 

“I needed to find something that would blend in!” At first he had thought of going with the style he was currently promoting and just wearing a comfortable sweater- that might have helped him blend in even more, but he still needed to knock Quentin of his feet, which called for something more tight fitting, so he had settled on a black shirt and pants with a dark grey vest, laying off the bright colors for this one and leaving the tie at home.

“Blend in? El, we’re in the  _ suburbs. _ ” She laughed, long enough for him to get slightly offended by it. “People are going to wear mom jeans and sneakers. You might be not be wearing something  _ too  _ flashy, but it’s still a vest and I am sure these shoes are designer. They look amazing, by the way.” 

“Whatever. . .” He noted, as they neared the parking lot. The school hadn’t changed a bit. It was strange to look at it now, it looked so familiar, but then again it also looked so much smaller than he remembered.

Or maybe his world just got bigger.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Usually, Quentin would have been freaking out because Eliot was late. He’d be asking himself if he was being stood up, if something had happened, if Eliot even cared about him, but not now. Now he was way too entranced by his student’s acting skills, the way their reinterpretation of the classic play had come to life, even if it was barely recognizable and littered with weird references no sane person would be able to understand. They just looked so damn proud of themselves, it made his heart melt. 

He had barely noticed it when Fen, who was occupying the seat next to him, had excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she came back, however, she had forced him to notice her, as she was clearly freaking out about something. 

“Quentin, you won’t believe who I met in the hallway! Well, if it’s him- but it must be him, or it’s the best look alike I have ever seen!” The play was nearing its end, so he decided to indulge her.

“Who?”

“Eliot Waugh!” Oh, right. Eliot was supposed to be here. “Now, I know for some reason you don’t seem to be caught up with this, but let me assure you- he’s a big deal!” Quentin couldn’t help but laugh at Fen not realising how ironic this situation was. “Would it be weird if I asked him out?!” She contemplated and Quentin had to hope she was at least partially joking. 

“Uhm probably?” He wondered if he should tell her out right or wait with the big revelation. The stunned look on people’s faces when they realised he had actually dated Eliot Waugh had always amused him a lot more than it should. Telling them he was dating him- no past tense in sight- could only make it better. Even if the only improvement was that he could fully enjoy it now, without the sting of pain Eliot’s memory used to bring with it. He’d felt it for so many years now, it was almost strange for it to be gone. Freeing.

“Especially since he’s here for  _ our  _ date.” He went on because life was short and you should seize the day. 

“You?” She asked, at a total loss for words. He kept looking at her with the same serious expression he used when he overheard his student’s weird gossip during class. “You are joking, right?” 

“No.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders as if this was the most casual fact one could drop. “We were friends in High School.” 

Fen’s face basically showed an error signal. “Friends?” She asked, after gathering herself together some. “As in acquaintances or close friends or actual ‘making out under the dock’ friends?” 

Now he just wasn’t able to hold his smirk back anymore. “No comment.” he said, but his face clearly told her how correct her assumption had been. Sadly some of her freak out got lost to him, due to the play officially ending and everyone who had not fled the room standing up to applaud. 

Quentin only needed to turn his head to find Eliot standing next to the door, clapping wildly. There was a gorgeous woman standing next to him, but Quentin found it difficult to avert his eyes long enough to form an opinion on her. He got up, eyes never leaving the man waiting for him, all dressed up and polished. Well, from Quentin’s perspective at least, who was still somehow used to the basic clothes his mother had used to buy him, even after seeing him in thousands of pictures, magazine covers and music videos.

“Well, he’s not  _ that  _ cute.” The woman huffed when he approached them and Eliot looked outright offended. Quentin really wasn’t sure if he should be feeling insulted, but the happiness over Eliot being this defensive won by a large margin. 

Especially when they used a hug to greet each other. They hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, but their familiarity with them hadn’t fully disappeared. “I’m really, really sorry about being late, Q.” Eliot told him. “I must’ve missed at least half of the play and frankly, by the time I came in I really didn’t manage to understand what was going on anymore. Except that your kids have spirit!” He laughed- his laugh hadn’t changed.

“Missing some of it was probably for the better, I doubt you would’ve been able to piece anything together either way, but thanks, I do a lot of-”

“Hi!” The woman next to Eliot interrupted his rambling. She didn’t look all to pleased by Eliot and Quentin only having eyes for each other and ignoring her existence entirely. Now, that the attention was solely hers again she grinned and held out a hand for Quentin to shake. 

“Hi”, Quentin took the peace offering, not expecting the strength this- objectively tiny- woman would use for a simple handshake. He tried not to wince. 

“Oh yes, that’s Margo my Assista-” Eliot started explaining. “Manager? She does a lot, to be honest.” The woman nodded and looked up to the sky, as if hoping some entity would finally have mercy and lift some of the heavy weight she was carrying off her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He added and Quentin had to question if he was saying that because he loved her, because it was true or because he was terrified of her wrath. Possibly all three.

“Nice to meet you” He told her, to which she elegantly answered. “Enchanté”. Hoping he had sated her hunger for attention enough, he turned back to Eliot.

“So do you still wanna grab some dinner?” Why did he pose this as a question? They had scheduled this, talked about this- it was a date. Was he being weird about it? Did he interpret too much into their conversation? Eliot did get all dressed up, but maybe this was just how Eliot dressed now.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry for too long, Eliot nodded and said “Yes, of course.” and they were left hopelessly staring at each other. Probably for too long to excuse.

“Oh god, you’re like lost kittens.” Margo chimed in. “Really. It’s so incredibly painful to witness, I am tempted to join and chaperone you, but sadly I already have plans for today.” Was she. . . being serious?!

Quentin wouldn’t find out, Margo just adjusted one last curl on Eliot’s head- not really necessary if you’d asked him- looked from one man to the other and clapped her hands twice in quick succession. “You are so  _ sweet _ .” She laughed, gave Eliot a quick pat on the shoulder and made her way out, not without adding a very audible “you are going to tell me  _ everything _ .” as she was striding away.

He didn’t know people behaved like this in real life, but Margo seemed to be proof. Eliot looked quite embarrassed and as nice as the implications of that were, Quentin had been there and tried to act as if he hadn’t heard anything. “So, Dinner.” He started, “I was thinking Hoberman’s?”

“No way, that place is still open?!” Eliot exclaimed. Again it sank in how long Eliot had been gone for. Quentin would never even consider the possibility of the place closing.

“Of course it is.” He answered “Best Burgers in town.”


	6. Chapter Six

_ They’d been to this place so many times before. Heck, this wasn’t even the first time they were here alone, just the first time Quentin had invited Eliot. To a date. Since apparently that was what they were doing now. Going on dates.  _

_His_ _heartbeat felt unnaturally fast, anyway. It never truly slowed down, not while they were ordering their food, not when they started an ordinary conversation, not while eating, not when they made each other laugh and especially not when they caught each other staring and fell silent at the same time._

_ Eliot pushed his hand forward, just a tiniest bit closer to Quentin’s for him to get the hint.  _

_ He didn’t want to just grab it the way he had at the cinema, instead he slid his own in Eliot’s direction. They picked their conversation up, as if this was something casual, but both boys had stopped focusing on their topic.  _

_ This is a date. _

_ His brain kept repeating it. A date. A real date. Not another friend annoyed by all the feelings Quentin had, but someone who maybe, just maybe, had some of his own. Even though Quentin was always the one having to make the first step, the first time holding hands, asking him out on their first date- _

_ Eliot was the one who gave in first this time. He surged forward and linked their hands together, in the middle of the table, next to the bottle of ketchup they had used for their fries. They both had to eat dessert with only one hand, which was impractical, but neither of them truly minded. _

_ When Quentin told the waitress he’d pay, Eliot wanted to argue for a moment- they always split the check when they came here, only this time, Quentin reminded Eliot, he had invited him. On a date. Eliot was unable to argue after that, he was way too busy smiling and staring at their hands.  _

_ When they got up and left Quentin had to shake his fingers out several times, since they felt like they were about to cramp. Worth it. Holding hands with Eliot was good, he would never be able to regret it.  _

_ He could only imagine what kissing him would feel like.  _

_ Eliot seemed to have the same thought. When they kissed each other goodbye in front of the restaurant’s entrance, it wasn’t him taking the first step, nor was it Eliot. They both looked at each other and simultaneously decided it was the right moment.  _

_ It wasn’t a long kiss, they were both clumsy and inexperienced and too eager- soon enough they were grinning, then laughing against each other’s lips. They didn’t mind their first kiss being imperfect, they both knew they’d be able to try again.  _

_ Many, many times. _

  
  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄   
  
  


“This just brings up so many memories. . .” Eliot said, after swallowing down the last bit of his cheeseburger. Quentin didn’t regret inviting the actual superstar out for a tacky burger restaurant, not for a second. He had had his doubts earlier that day, but as soon as they had entered, Eliot’s face had lit up and he hadn’t been able to stop mentioning how amazing it was that they barely changed anything here, after all these years.

Why would they, Quentin suppressed answering every time, when you have such a good thing why would you ever be crazy enough to change it. He didn’t miss the parallels the statement was able to hold, so he pointed out the little changes instead. It got renovated, of course. The furniture was new, even though it looked almost exactly the same. There were new additions to the menu. The photo wall was missing. The last change was probably for the best, Kids had done unholy things to get their pictures hung up there. Sometimes, competitiveness could be a bad thing.

He knew every change by heart, he’d never been gone long enough to forget one detail about this place. Either Eliot didn’t pick up on his melancholy, or he’d chosen to ignore it for the sake of a fun evening, which it was. It was still easy to talk to Eliot, and now he had thousands of new stories to tell. 

Quentin had always been the one into literature, he’d been more of a reader than Eliot and his big dream had been to become a writer, but Eliot was the person who made decisions based on which outcome would make a better story later, which made him superior in telling them, most of the time.

By now he felt as if  _ he’d  _ known Margo for more than a decade, if only because Eliot managed to paint a clear picture of her character, that made it easy for Quentin to start loving her. How could he not, when Eliot was talking about her as if she’d hung the sun and the moon?

She had helped Eliot become who he is now.  _ That’s what I was supposed to help you with.  _ She was there for him whenever he needed her.  _ I wish I could’ve been there for you, El. _ She was honest and beautiful and strong and smart and fucked up in a way that Eliot could relate too, that had pushed them even closer. Quentin couldn’t be jealous of her, as much as he regretted their lost time, he’d made some good memories himself and Eliot had found what seemed to be one of the best humans to ever exist, so could they really look back and feel even the tiniest bit of bitterness?

They were both here now, after all. 

“Remember when you and Julia had that contest about who could eat the most burgers?” Eliot asked, going back even further than meeting Margo or ascending into stardom, back to their shared experiences. 

“No we never did that.” Quentin said, defensively, “The challenge was eating a whole Dragon Burger and fries.” It still wasn’t something to be proud of, nowadays he only got this burger when he was here with Julia  _ and  _ his kids and even those combined powers rarely managed to finish the whole thing.

“Christ, now I remember. The Dragon Burger.” Eliot had probably been working on forgetting the existence of the thing for years. Quentin wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy. “That thing was honestly disgusting, I never understood why you did that to yourselves, just to get your picture on a wall?”

“Hey, it was a big honor.” Quentin answered.

Eliot dramatically looked form one side to the other, as if he was searching the restaurant. “Oh yeah, so where’s your wall now?” Quentin just laughed, unable to miss the thing, it had led to some of the worst stomach aches in his life after all.

“I’m just glad you didn’t get one today, Q.” Eliot went on, “I think I’d be forced to leave if you did that, I really can’t handle the sight of it ever again.” He shook his head in disgust

“Don’t worry, I’m not sixteen anymore.” Quentin sighed. “I need to worry about high cholesterol and diabetes now. . .” The despair on his face made Eliot chuckle, so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

Eliot used the talk about the missing pictures to scan the room some more, noticing the empty tables surrounding them. “So. . . I guess this place isn’t a popular hanging out spot anymore either, is it?”, he asked and Quentin nodded, there were still enough customers around to keep the place going, nowadays you just didn’t have to battle a hoard of wild teens to get through to a table.

“Well it’s probably for the best,” Quentin answered “Rumor has it you’re kind of a big deal around here.” he whispered the last part, as if it were some big secret between the two of them. He grinned and Eliot did the same, only his dropped after a couple of seconds.

“I don’t know.” He started smearing his left over ketchup around his plate, using a toothpick, obviously lost in thought. Quentin let him take his time to explain, they were sitting in silence when Eliot looked back up at him. “People think you have this perfect life, but that’s not true.” The tone he used wasn’t sad, it sounded more like he was justifying himself. Explaining something, maybe.

“So what is it?” He asked. “The thing that’s bothering you?”

“Paparazzi, for instance.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “I mean they’re  _ everywhere _ these days and-  _ heaven forbid _ if you hang out with your female best friend too much, because that  _ surely _ means you’re secretly married and the whole queer thing is an act for publicity” His tone changed into a deeply sarcastic one, as he went on “since  _ naturally _ marrying someone of the opposite sex erases your queerness and being openly queer makes your life  _ oh so much  _ easier.”

Eliot stopped himself, noticing that his rant went on for a too long, especially since this was kind of a first date, which meant that these discussions weren’t what he had planned for the night. It was a shame, because it sounded interesting and honest and Quentin hoped they could pick it up another time. Right now, Eliot went back to jokes and irony. “Or you change your style and people think you’re dead and the person who took your place is actually your doppelganger” 

Quentin had in fact already read something about that particular conspiracy theory. “I’m not gonna lie, that sucks.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, the fans are amazing and” And there it was, the spark in Eliot’s eyes that made the whole thing worth it, “when you have a song that really touches somebody that’s. . .” he paused. “pretty awesome.” 

Seeing Eliot at a loss for words was strange, especially when Quentin knew he was considered a lyrical genius by some people. Some people including, but not limited to, his own son.

“I’m proud of you, El.” He told him, on a more serious note. Quentin might have not been ready to say everything he needed to say yet, but it was a start. “You did what you set out to do, not many people-”

“Oh my god it  _ is  _ him!” he heard someone squeal and figured the restaurant wasn’t empty enough after all.

“That might be our cue to leave.” Quentin mentioned and Eliot nodded, grabbing his coat. He did not miss the chance to smile and wave at the group of kids who were by now, completely freaking out and Quentin took the chance to pay for both of them to avoid some awkward back and forth that would end in the singer paying for them even though Quentin had invited him, because he was simply unable to win an argument against Eliot.

“So, where are the kids tonight?” Eliot asked, on the way back to Quentin’s car. 

“Staying with Jules.” He answered. “She loves her job but she rarely has time to hang out with me, or them, so whenever the opportunity to babysit arrives she gladly takes it.” It was a blessing and a curse, since by now he had learned that Julia didn’t have that much of an issue with telling them things he didn’t need them to know. 

“I was sorry to hear about Ari.” Eliot said. Quentin was almost glad Plum had already told him, he probably wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to do it. “She was a sweet girl.”

“Yeah she was.” Quentin agreed, and because Eliot hadn’t come back home to visit his old friends since High School- not even once- he added: “She turned into an incredible woman, too.” Not that this one simple description could begin to explain what Eliot had never known about her, but it was important to Quentin that he knew, there was more to her than the sweet girl they had befriended in High School. She  _ had _ grown. They had done so, together.

“I’m sure of it.” Eliot nodded and they fell quiet for a few moments. “If you don’t mind me asking. . . what happened?” 

Quentin stopped. This wasn’t something he could stomach to talk about while moving somewhere, in fact it wasn’t really something he wanted to talk about at all, but they were friends and he deserved to know. “She got sick.” It was different, telling Eliot. “We thought it would get better, but it didn’t.” Usually, people either hadn’t known her at all, or had been around when it happened. This was new. “She spent weeks in the hospital and the night before Thanksgiving, she passed away.” This was like ripping an old wound open again, like some part of him was always living in denial and saying the words out loud made it real. 

“I’m so sorry,” Eliot said and at least that felt different, too. Like he actually meant it, not like an empty phrase. It managed to dull the pain and Quentin kept on walking.

“The hardest part was telling the kids, you know?” He knew he had to wrap this talk up soon, or he’d turn into a crying mess. “They were basically just toddlers.” He shrugged. “The world sucks sometimes.”

“I can’t even imagine. . .” Eliot drifted off, unable to finish that sentence. Then he placed a comforting hand on Quentin’s shoulder. “You’re really brave, Q.” 

He shook his head. “I only made it through because of the kids, if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have managed to pull myself together. But they lost their mum, and I had to be there for them, more than ever.” He looked away. “Holidays are still the hardest. Ari just knew how to make them really special.” Now he really needed to wrap this up.

“I’m glad you found a great wife, Q.” Eliot said, and Quentin knew it was genuine. 

“So what about you?” He asked, trying to cheer them up again. “I’ve heard you got quite a list of famous beaus.” And then, for some goddamn reason he wasn’t able to explain to himself he  _ winked. _ He had to restrain from visibly cringing, but it managed to lighten the mood.

“Oh god please don’t.” Eliot started laughing as Quentin playfully hit his shoulder.

“But you do! I know it, I’ve googled you.” He was glad that Eliot was playing along and they managed to go back to having fun again quickly. Things were so easy with him.

“Oh did you now?!” Eliot exclaimed, clasping his hand in front of his mouth in feigned shock. As if they weren’t both aware how much information Quentin had collected over the years- technically it wasn’t stalking if you read stuff on magazine covers by accident. Or on purpose. Or if you searched for even more information online, since that’s just a follow up.

“Uh huh.” Quentin answered, proudly. “And we both know the internet doesn’t lie.”

They could barely breathe from laughing too hard. “No.” Eliot still somehow managed to sounds serious. “Never.” He dragged the word out, overexaggerating and Quentin was vaguely aware that this wasn’t even funny, but they were in too deep and there was no going back now. They continued with their stupid jokes until Quentin almost tumbled down to the floor, which was apparently so hilarious that Eliot followed him. 

When they finally calmed down, they were still out of breath. “Seriously though,” Eliot said, inhaling deeply. “The record label set most of it up. I’m friends with a lot of those guys and I won’t lie and tell you that most of them have not seen the inside of my bedroom, but it was never anything serious.”

Quentin felt a strange sense of relief flooding through him, almost immediately followed by guilt. He’d married someone and had two kids during their time apart, jealousy was entirely inappropriate. “Not even Idri?” He asked, because Quentin never just accepted facts that made him happy. 

“Okay.” Eliot admitted. “Idri and I were actually an item.” Good. Eliot deserved all the good things in life and after all. . .

“I definitely understand the attraction.” At least he mustered up enough social competence to not wink again. 

“Well, it didn’t work out in the end.” Quentin allowed himself to be happy about that comment, he wanted this date to lead somewhere after all and no matter how attractive Idri was, he surely couldn’t handle dating two celebrities. “him being an actor and me touring, we were barely ever in the same country.”

“Well maybe that just means you have to date a commoner,” Quentin muttered, inaudibly and before Eliot could ask him to repeat himself he opened his car door. “Hop in, I’m driving you home.”

They got in the car and turned the radio on for a bit. It was comfortable, sitting next to each other while the same old christmas songs were playing on repeat. Even better when Eliot started singing along. Quentin figured him becoming a famous musician had to happen, hiding something this beautiful from the world would be pure injustice. 

“Wow you’re place is fancy.” Quentin said when they arrived, not commenting on the very intimidating security guards placed in front of the door.

“What can I say,” Eliot responded, “I’m living my best life.”

They looked at each other, unsure what to say or what to do. “So. . .” Quentin started, only thinking  _ Kiss him, you idiot _ only he didn’t, because he was a disaster of a human being, so instead of leaning over and doing what he wanted to do, he said “Goodnight.” 

Eliot sank back, Quentin hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten, and nodded. “Right. Goodnight.” 

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄   
  


_ “Do you think we’ll be able to stay together?” The fear had been gnawing on him for a year. Quentin just had to address it: They were graduating in a week. He should be happy, but all he really wanted to do was panic. Only one week. Eliot wanted to move to L.A. basically straight away, after a couple of parties and activities they all wanted to do together before splitting up. Quentin was still the only one not sure what to do after graduation- sure he’d applied to a ton of colleges and had gotten accepted by most of them, but he was still flexible. _

_ The main reason why he hadn’t made his decision was Eliot, precisely, the fact that Eliot hadn’t asked him to come with him. And at this point, Quentin didn’t expect him to, not anymore. Still, there was the UCLA acceptance letter waiting for him on the bottom of his desk drawer. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually be able to pull this off, move to L.A., but he was considering it. And it was time to talk about it, had been for a while. _

_ “You mean, like a long distance thing?” well, it wasn’t what Quentin meant necessarily, but as plan B, sure. “Honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Just ask me to come with you, then, Quentin thought.  _

_ “What else are we going to do?” If Eliot didn’t like the idea of a long distance relationship Quentin should take the UCLA option more seriously. It was an amazing University, after all and he would surely get used to the heat and- _

_ “Take a break, I guess.”  _

_ Before he knew it, tears filled Quentin’s eyes, but when he tried to look into Eliot’s face, the other boy was looking at the floor. That hadn’t been an option. Deep down, of course, he knew it might happen, but not without trying, at least. Maybe Eliot didn’t want to be an asshole and tell his boyfriend to move to the other end of the country for him. That had to be it, right? Quentin had to take initiative.  _

_ “Or I could come with you.” Eliot shook his head, but Quentin didn’t allow himself to register what that meant. “I got accepted to UCLA. It has a great literature programme, I could-” _

_ “No.” _

_ He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t. He couldn’t sit here and start sobbing while Eliot was sitting next to him like some unemotional statue. He wiped a tear away, hoping it went unnoticed. _

_ “Q I love you, but that’s- I need to do this on my own.” So Eliot really didn’t feel the same way he did. It had always been a thing he had been scared of, the way he loved Eliot was too extreme, as if he was constantly brimming over with feelings and of course that was just him being him. Eliot wasn't like that- was surely exhausted by now. _

_ “I just need a clean slate. I love you, but I hate me and I need to become someone else.” He couldn’t bring himself to listen to him anymore. “Someone I can love, too and if I want to truly achieve that I can’t bring in any weight from my past. I can’t use a crutch.” _

_ It was crazy, how people you thought you knew could surprise you. “Sorry, I didn’t know you thought of me that way.” Quentin had thought they were happy. He’d been so sure of it. _

_ “I’m sorry that came out way too harsh I didn’t mean to-” Eliot started, but Quentin couldn’t listen to more of this. “I still want to be with you, it’s not forever, just until I figure this out and-” Sure. Eliot would reach all of his dreams, become even better than he already was and then go back to him. If Quentin wasn’t good enough now, he certainly wouldn’t be, after.  _

_ “Please leave.” he choked on the words when they left his mouth, but they needed to be said.  _

_ “Quentin, please don’t. We still have a couple of weeks left and I want to enjoy the time with you.” He didn’t even bother correcting him. A couple of weeks made it sound like so much time. Thirteen days. They had Thirteen days left. “Don’t throw it away. I wanna be with you as long as I can. I love you. I mean it.”  _

_ He had to make a decision now. But he wouldn’t cry in front of Eliot. He wouldn’t. _

_ “Just leave, okay. I’ll forget about it. Let’s just pretend nothing happened.” It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best way to make the other boy leave. “You’re right. We should enjoy what little time we have left.” Maybe he wanted it, a bit. _

_ Eliot left without another word, still unable to look him the eyes. Being alone only showed him how bad it would be, when Eliot was gone, but at least he could cry his heart out. _

  
  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄   
  
  


Eliot leaned over and opened the car door, then stopped and turned around. “I have to know something.” Quentin couldn’t bring himself to ask what, unsure if he was ready for whatever this was going to be. “Why did you leave?”

So Eliot was determined to answer all his questions tonight. Quentin wasn’t sure if he had the answers Eliot craved. So he kept quiet.

“After I got signed, I mean. When I came back to the celebration everyone was having a good time and you just. . . disappeared.” Of course he had, what else would he have done. It wasn’t like Eliot was talking to him that day anyway. 

“I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.” There it was, the bitterness he had been trying to suppress so badly.

“Q, I didn’t  _ intentionally  _ ignore you I- I thought you supported me.” Of course he did. Eliot reaching his dreams had always been the priority, things would have gone drastically different if it hadn’t.

“I did. That’s why I left.” The truth hurt sometimes, but it was the only thing that mattered, if they ever wanted to get over this “Look, all your dreams were coming true and I was just in the way.”

“Oh so you just vanish?!” At least he wasn’t the only one being bitter.

“Oh come on. I wasn’t the one who left and you know it.” The audacity of Eliot being mad at him for this. . . he wanted to yell but then, “You always knew what you wanted.” His anger had run out. “and I was just. . . lost.”

“Things could’ve been different.” Things could always be different.

“I’m sorry.” Quentin didn’t want to fight anymore. “I regret things, I’m sure you do, too.”

“I do, but- come on. Look at how things worked out for you.” For Quentin? Was he serious? How well had things worked out for  _ Eliot _ ?! “You had your perfect wife and you have amazing kids and you were able to stay in touch with you family- you wouldn’t have been happy in L.A.” And Eliot made himself the judge of that. “I just want what’s best for you, Q.”

“Yeah, maybe next time just trust what I think is best for me.” They both paused, thinking.

“You’re right.” It was years too late, but it was good to hear. “I am, you know? Sorry, too.” Quentin nodded and before he could repeat his earlier goodnight, the other man had leaned closer until his lips were pressed too Quentin’s cheek in a single short but sweet kiss. “Goodnight.” Quentin could feel Eliot grin against his ear as he said it.

“Wait let me-” He said and got up and out of the car, opening Eliot’s door for him. The other man rolled his eyes at his behaviour, but before he could complain Quentin pulled him closer. He wasn’t thinking about it, when he pressed his lips to Eliot’s, when his hands held onto Eliot’s waist while the other man gripped Quentin’s neck, deepening the kiss even more.

His mind was lost inside of an an endless symphony of  _ Eliot, Eliot, Eliot. _ The way they kissed each other was different now, they had both evolved and learned, but the feeling was the same.  _ I love him _ , Quentin realized.  _ I love him, of course I do, how could I have ever stopped, I love him and maybe _

_ Maybe he loves me, too. _

At some point, it had started to snow, but they kept going, kept falling back into each other’s arms and getting closer and closer and closer until all the walls broke down. “I missed you.” whispered, in between. He might have been crying, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.

This was Eliot, he didn’t have to hide, or lie or be someone else with him. “I missed you so much.” Eliot responded, later, or maybe he said it on his own, Quentin wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. His heart was on fire and he was out of air and the world around them was cold but they were warm and Quentin hadn’t felt this safe in years. 

_ I love you. I always have and I always will.  _

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄   
  


_ It was surprisingly easy, acting as if nothing happened. They’d been Quentin and Eliot for years, it wasn’t easy to break that. They didn’t even need to talk about what would happen, when Quentin’s parents went out of town.  _

_ It was still the same, when Eliot kissed him. It felt the same. A bit more desperate maybe, a bit more eager to make it good. To make it perfect. When he laid Quentin out on his bed he touched him even more than usual, held him even tighter.  _

_ Quentin would have loved to tell him he didn’t have to make it memorable, even if it was the last time. He would never be able to forget him, anyway. But that talk never happened, so Quentin laid back and enjoyed himself. They were fine. They were good. This was good.  _

_ They still fit together like puzzle pieces. Made for each other. There were Quentin and Eliot and one belonged to the other, nothing would ever change that. They wouldn’t break apart.  _

_ For a moment, it was so easy to believe. _

  
❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

And right now he was able to believe Eliot felt the same. There was no other way this could feel so incredibly right. “I’d invite you up,” Eliot said, “but-”

“It’s too soon.” Quentin agreed. “Another day.” Eliot nodded, but their embrace didn’t break apart yet, not for a while. There was nothing that could disturb them in this moment. Certainly not the faint click of a camera in the distance.


	7. Chapter Seven

Plum walked into the living room, while Julia was reading today’s paper. She really wasn’t sure what kind of Eleven year old liked to get up on time and make her own breakfast, but she seemed to enjoy it and who was Julia to break her morning rituals? Not a good cook, that one was for sure.

“Anything interesting?” she asked and Julia smirked. 

“Indeed.” She made a dramatic pause. “It seems your favourite singer has found himself a new love interest.” She turned the paper around, fully aware that the person buried in Eliot’s arms was unmistakably Quentin, even if his face wasn’t in the picture.

After that she just had to hope no neighbour would call the cops because they heard a child screaming in her loft.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“You have some explaining to do.” Fen ripped Quentin- who was still happily lounging on cloud nine- out of his daydreams. 

**Thursday, dinner, my treat. I won’t take no for an answer.**

That was the text from Eliot he had woken up to, a text that had ensured his good mood for the entire day.

**I wouldn’t dare to say no.**

“What could possibly be so urgent?” He asked Fen, who held out her phone in response. 

“Why do I have to find out from TMZ that you’re playing kissy face with  _ Eliot Waugh _ ?!” It was early in the morning and those were a lot of strange words and Quentin really didn’t understand why he couldn’t be left alone for five fucking minutes. “I know this is you!”

Quentin took a closer look. Thankfully they weren't fully visible, his car obscuring a lot of the view, but they were clearly lost in a kiss with snow falling all around them. “How did they even get that?” It seemed as if Eliot had been serious about those paparazzi being everywhere. “At least you can’t see my face.”

“Yeah they haven’t figured out your identity yet- and I’m saying yet. These people are  _ good _ ." The stare she send him almost terrified Quentin more than the photo. "They brought down Tiger Woods.” 

“How many people do you think have seen this picture?” Quentin asked, slowly beginning to panic.

“Only everyone awake in the free world," Fen said as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.

Fuck.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Thankfully Quentin kept his promises. The next time Eliot saw him it was as if their conversation had never happened, or maybe that was just what Eliot wanted to believe. He really wanted to enjoy these last days he had with Quentin- he needed them.  _

_ The things he had told Quentin hadn't exactly been true, at least they hadn't been the  _ whole _ truth. He knew Quentin would be unhappy in L.A. and he knew Quentin would realise what he'd given up for Eliot eventually, how choosing Eliot over everything else had been wrong and then he'd grow to resent him. It would be so much worse than this, even though Eliot couldn't imagine ever feeling worse then he did when he told Quentin he didn't want him there. _

_ Maybe they could make it work. Maybe, if they talked about it, if they fought for it.  _

_ But Eliot was so goddamn tired of having to fight for his happiness. He just wanted to be free, even if he'd have to deny his feelings to achieve it.  _

_ So he played along when Quentin hugged him good morning. He whispered "Hi Babe." Into his ear, the way he always did when he wanted Quentin to turn strawberry red. His hand slipped into Eliot's and they walked to their classroom, none of them mentioning how it was the last time they'd ever do it.  _

_ Fighting was hard, denial was so much easier. _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“It’s everywhere, El!” Margo was practically running around him in circles and he was sure that if he had to read one more trashy gossip article he was going to quit, move to the countryside and get himself a goat. At least he would do that, if it wouldn’t bring up traumatizing early childhood memories. “Everyone wants to know who this new guy is.”

“Whatever, the public has an attention span of five minutes,” he justified himself, but Margo was having none of it. 

“Not when it’s this good!” She argued and as always, she was probably right, he just really couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Eliot!” Oh no. What was Tick Pickwick doing here today? He’d been sure no one from the label was supposed to come in today. “I thought I simply  _ needed _ to come over after I’ve heard about your. . . uhm. . .  _ escapades _ .”

Oh Jesus fucking Christ “I had a  _ date. _ One. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Then why weren’t we told?!” Because I don’t give a shit about your opinion anyway, Tick.

“He is just an old friend from High School.” It was wild how everyone thought there was something scandalous about Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, of all people.

“Is he married? Does he have kids? Occupation? Criminal record?” The goat option became better and better as time went on.

“A widower, yes, teacher and not that I know of,” He answered truthfully, hoping it would end the discussion sooner.

“A widower. We could maybe do something with that.” Eliot wanted to yell. Over his dead body would they exploit Quentin’s life story- Arielle’s death for profits or publicity or his image or whatever else their plan was this time. 

“Don’t be morbid.” He said instead, posing it as more of a joke, hoping they would realise how awful it was on their own. Not that he held any trust in these people, whatsoever.

“Eliot,” Tick said, soothingly. “You have a very carefully crafted image and a christmas eve concert we want to sell out. We need the public on our side.” He probably read Eliot’s expression well enough to know this wouldn’t convince him. Margo didn’t do anything for now, except for observing the situation silently, Eliot could only hope she’d take his side. She did, most of the time, but she also was an unpredictable force to be reckoned with, so he could never be sure. 

“Look.” Tick tried again. “Everyone adored Idri. You and him were a total- what do you call it? A power couple!" Tick really was a hard person to take seriously. “Christmas is only a few days away and our focus has to be on selling the album. We only have a very  _ very  _ small window of opportunity for that.” 

If only Eliot could bring himself to care. He loved his music, it was his heart and soul, the only thing about him that he felt was truly honest. His fans didn’t care if he was dating Idri or not- at least not enough to make them stop listening to his music. And his fans, the people who really listened and understood and cared, those were the people he was doing this for. Not to be on the radio or the charts, just for every individual who understood the feeling. Not that the label shared those values. . .

“Honestly Eliot, I didn’t want to say this, but you know this album is the label’s last effort to see if you’re worth keeping.”  _ If you want to get rid of me so badly, just do it. I have a goat waiting for me.  _ Honestly what else did they want him to be? The whole world already knew who he was and the label wouldn’t stop bitching that sales weren’t increasing.  _ It always has to go up, up, up. _ “If you want to keep your career then I suggest you follow directions.” Tick was starting to get mad now and angry Tick wasn’t the Tick Eliot liked to deal with “No scandals, no new loves or former flames during the holiday season would be advised.  _ Strongly  _ advised.”

If Eliot really were the diva some people thought he was, the one he pretended to be sometimes, he’d just yell ‘Fuck you I do whatever I want’ and storm out. If he were the young kid he’d once been who had actually taken these threats seriously he’d stay quiet and scared and ask what they wanted him to do (except for those times were Margo went absolutely feral on them and they gave in). Who he was now was an artist who was way over this crap, so he just raised an eyebrow and asked “What’s the plan?”

“They will ask you about this on live TV and the best idea is to just downplay this whole thing.” He’d almost forgot his live interview. Well that was going to be fun. “Say you just bumped into an old friend, we will find someone to validate the story later.”

Margo coughed. “Sorry to interrupt the pep talk but. . . Idri called. He wants to talk.” She probably wanted to help him out, change the topic, but why now?

“Perfect!” Of course, Tick would jump on this. “That’s the relationship we can support! The two of you working things out over the holiday season- the public will love that!” Well, screw the public. “It’s in the best interest of both of your careers, for you to be a couple!”

Idri calling him was a whole other struggle he needed to work out later. For now he just really wanted Tick off his back. “Look, I have to talk to Q. I have to tell him what’s going on, I invited him to dinner on thursday.”

“Fine. I’ll set it up and you can explain things, then. It’s for the best.” So the label wanted him to- what? Break up with Quentin? They weren’t even a thing, yet, but did they really believe he’d drop Quentin like that? These people truly didn’t know him.

He just nodded and Tick finally left. “I’m sorry, El,” Margo said as he sak down on the sofa behind him. What was he supposed to do now? “Wow, you really care about him.” She sounded surprised, of course she did. She hadn’t known him, back when he was with Quentin, she knew present Eliot inside out, but his past self? Was someone else entirely.

“Who do you think my first album was about?” There it was. The pieces clicked together and she sat down next to him, stroking his back. He must’ve looked miserable, Margo was touchy often but rarely was she soft. “I thought I’d never see him again.” It was the first time he said it out loud, outside of his songs. “Yesterday when I was with him, all these feelings came rushing back and. . . God, this is stupid.” 

Margo made a disapproving sound but let him snuggle up to her and keep talking. “He has kids! I can’t even stay in the same place for a week!” Maybe Tick was right after all and he should just do what was best for everyone. Run. Again.

“For what it’s worth,” Margo said, “I have never seen you as happy as you were last night.” He’d basically jumped into her arms after Quentin had gone home. The poor woman must be getting whiplash from his mood swings at this point.

“I really like him a lot.” He was pouting now and Margo tightened her hug. 

“Then be with him. Who cares what these people say, they’ve dictated your life for long enough.” If only they were the real issue. “And stop pouting, I know you can make it work if you want to.” She laced their fingers together. “We can.” 

He decided to believer her, for now.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“I’ve already spoken to Idri’s PR manager. He was utterly delighted! Now all you have to do is tell them how you’re working things out!” Eliot didn’t even really listen to what Tick was going on about. He’d made his own plans and he’d follow through with them, even though he felt a bit bad about Idri. Eliot should call him, sort things out, he just wanted to do it on his own terms.

They rushed him in front of a mic and he heard the show’s familiar jingle before his interviewer announced him and the song he’d sing. It was one from his new album, a really christmassy one because screw it, he had a weakness for it. Or his and Margo’s interpretation of it, at least. There was a wall of red lametta behind him and it looked more cheesy than anything, but he imagined Quentin watching like he promised he would earlier and his mood was lifted immediately.

The interviewer seemed to like it. “Eliot, that was amazing, your voice is absolutely angelic!” He thanked her and sat down while she was talking about some news, his new album, where you could get it, all that jazz. It was exhausting to listen to, at this point.

"I mean I don't think people have been this hyped for an album since you dropped  _ Divine Queer Dissatisfaction. _ " He smiled at the reference of his third album. It really was the one he was proudest of, for finally being honest. “But we can talk about all of this more, after we get to the question that has everybody buzzing.” They really weren’t going easy on him today. He didn’t need to turn around to know the picture of him and Quentin kissing in the snow was projected on the screen behind him. “Who is this mystery man of yours? And did he perhaps play a role in your break up with Idri?”

“No.” At least that one wasn’t problematic to answer. “He is actually my High School sweetheart,” he told her, driving the audience crazy. Margo had been right, using that term was indeed a good idea.

“Oh, I see. So you’re rekindling an old flame?” A bit more than that, but he sure wasn’t going to tell them more than they needed to know. 

“Perhaps. We’ll see where it’s going, but I have a very good feeling about it.” Tick was probably having a mental breakdown backstage and Eliot really couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it. “Could we go back to talking about the album now?” He asked, with a shy smile to not come off as rude. More questions about Idri were the last thing he wanted now, especially not with Q watching.

“Sure!” She smiled and he could finally relax, start talking about what Christmas meant to him, as someone who hated it as a child, especially the religious aspects of it and how glad he was that he’d been able to change it and make it into a day where he could celebrate with the family he had found along the way. People adored Margo, she wasn’t famous per se, but she was always with Eliot, she was gorgeous and her style was to die for. Time flew by and he found himself really enjoying the rest of the interview.

“Thank you and happy holidays!” The bubbly woman ended the show. After the cameras turned off Eliot left, Tick was already waiting for him ready to start yelling so he just gave him a quick pat on the shoulder.

“Sorry, Pickwick. I want control over my life.” Margo stood behind him, giving Eliot a thumbs up. “Oh, and you can cancel dinner with Idri.” He walked away.

“This isn’t going to go over well!” Tick screamed, finally having lost his patience, but Eliot didn’t stop. 

“I don’t care!” He yelled back and started laughing, after all, he was indeed a bit of a diva.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Thursday afternoon, Plum had to enter their home through a backdoor. Quentin sight as he witnessed how his daughter had to sneak in. 

“Still there?”, he asked.

“Yup,” she said, dropping her backpack to the floor.

Eliot really hadn’t been lying when he had told Quentin about the Paparazzi. These people where  _ everywhere.  _ He had barely managed to fight his way to the entrance of his home because of the sheer flood of people stopping him and asking him for interviews and insides on his relationship with Eliot Waugh.

Quentin had known Eliot was a big deal, but he’d never taken it as seriously as he should’ve. Every gossip site or magazine wanted their hands on his exclusive first interview, some had offered sums of money that had almost sent him into shock. Of course he declined, at first, because he’d never say anything before consulting Eliot first, but then when reporters had started asking his _ children  _ to answer some questions he snapped.

“Oh, come on dad.” Plum must have picked up on his sour mood. “It’s like we’re famous! They even wanted to take pictures of me!” Oh so it really could get worse., Quentin thought, feeling the rage starting to build up inside his chest.

“Relax, of course I told them off, even though I’m sure I would’ve made a great magazine cover.” He didn’t even want to hear jokes about that, Jesus Christ, he could somehow understand people wanting to interview him but his child?! He was pretty sure that was illegal. 

“Plum, I don’t want you talking to these people,” He said firmly, not even leaning into her joke. She had to understand this was no laughing matter, this could potentially ruin Eliot’s career and Quentin really hated being in the public eye like this.

“Don’t worry about it, if I pull another stunt before the month is over you might actually give me house arrest.” House arrest, yes. Quentin had already forgotten about that, god he needed to learn how to- “Who’s calling?” 

The phone hadn’t stopped ringing the entire day and at this point he had learned to blend it out. “US weekly? E! TV? I have no idea. it’s been a day.” Quentin buried his head in his hands and groaned. Hopefully things would change soon, but if he stayed with Eliot. . . damn it. 

All of the sudden the ringing stopped. Quentin looked up, only to find his daughter with a cable in her hand. “What would you do without me?” Right. Unplug the phone that was. . . also a solution. “That must’ve been some kiss, everyone already thinks you’re Eliot’s boyfriend!” 

And number one of conversations you really don’t want to have with your daughter was. . . that your first kiss with your ex boyfriend was way more passionate than it should’ve been. Fun. 

“Are you gonna get married?!” And there was Theodore Rupert Coldwater, looking away from the TV to join his sister in this madness. “That would be awesome!”

“No we- this is ridiculous. Listen.” he stood up, trying to at least act like a functional adult. “I haven’t even talked to Eliot since we went out!” That sounded less ‘no we aren’t gonna get married’ and more ‘i’m complaining to my children about my love life, or lack there off’ which was really the opposite of what he wanted to be doing. Then again, they looked thrilled to finally hear some details, so at least he knew he wasn’t oversharing.

“Dad! Call him!” Plum complained, and that was so not the point he was trying to bring across.

“No I didn’t want to-” 

“Dad.”

“I just meant-”

“It’s just a phone call. 

“But I-”

“You make them everyday.”

“Fine.” 

Maybe she was right. Also he really wanted to talk to Eliot, or rather he needed to, to at least sort the Paparazzi situation out. He took his phone and walked into the kitchen, his daughter following suit. “Could I have some privacy please?” 

“But what if you need coaching!” Unbelievable. You make a complete fool of yourself  _ one time _ , you never hear the end of it. 

“I think I can handle it,”he said, and before she could explain why exactly he couldn’t, he closed the door between them.

He pulled up Eliot’s contact, noticing how his hands were slightly shaking.  _ Get yourself together, Coldwater.  _ They had texted, the last couple of days, but Quentin hadn’t heard his voice since their date. “Hello?” That wasn’t completely right, either, he reminded himself, he’d watched his performances, listened to some of his music. This was better, though.

“Hey, El,” he answered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey, Q,” Eliot chuckled, “how are you?”

“Well,” Quentin started, knowing the usual answer to this question, especially this early in a relationship, if that was what this was becoming, should be ‘good, how are you?’, but he had kind of called Eliot for a reason, so he figured should address it. “It’s. . . been an interesting day.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make your life crazy.” So Eliot knew exactly what was going on. “I swear I didn’t even think of the possible consequences you could have-”

“Yeah, it’s not you, it’s the Paparazzi” Quentin answered, hoping Eliot wouldn’t blame himself. Yes, the situation sucked, especially when he needed to protect his kids from a bunch of sensation hungry gossip blogs, but that wasn’t on Eliot, it was on them.

“Just don’t talk to them and keep your distance.”, Eliot explained, proving that Quentin had been right with what he was doing all along. “I’m so sorry. I hope it didn’t change your mind about our dinner?”

Quentin couldn’t imagine a world in which he’d say no to a date with Eliot Waugh. “No, no way.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved. Had he really been worrying about that? “I’ll text you the address, can you meet me there at seven? If we walk in there together it might cause too much commotion. “

“Sure.” That sounded like a good plan. He couldn’t wait to see Eliot again.

“EL!” A woman’s voice yelled in the background.

“Sorry that’s Margo I actually. . . kind of wasn’t allowed to take phone calls right now.” Had he made an exception for Quentin? His heart jumped at the thought. “Talk to you later?”

“Sure!” Quentin answered, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Well, if he was already being sappy. . . “Wait I just wanted to tell you that I- I saw your performance. It was beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Eliot sounded touched, so Quentin took that one as a win. Anything better than IKEA, really. “Can’t wait for later. See you, Q”

“See you,” Quentin answered and hung up, a dopey grin on his face.


	8. Chapter Eight

“Awwwwww,” Margo cooed. “Look at you being all lovey dovey.”

“Is it that obvious?” Eliot surely hoped he’d still have some self control left.

“Just look in the mirror, love.” All he really wanted to do  _ now _ , was hide away. “Also, I just wanted to say, I’m really proud of you for stepping up for yourself.” 

“Thanks. I think that was the first time I ever really put something in front of my career.” Not too long ago he wouldn’t have dared to, not when he had sacrificed so much to get to where he was. And then the only person worth prioritising over it would have been Margo, who part of it, so there really wasn’t a reason to. Not until now.

“Speaking of your career. . .” Margo said, “Tick just called.”

“Uh Oh.” Eliot made a face, but his best friend just laughed.

“Don’t worry, the label is absolutely loving this reunited sweethearts story,” she reassured him, though the words didn’t sit right with him. There was no ‘story’ here, he’d just been honest for once. “You’re Saps, all of you. They even leaked some old High School pics of yours.”

She held up a magazine showing- the quality was horrible but it clearly was him and Quentin in junior year. “Where did they get my yearbook pictures?”

“Honey. These people have more sources than the CIA.” Eliot wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “The point is everyone is loving it. Your album is climbing the charts, people are asking for interviews left and right and you don’t even want to hear what they’re dubbing this, El. It’s capital B bad.” He probably really didn’t want to, but she told him anyway. “A popstar holiday fairytale.” Margo wasn’t one to spare him suffering.

“Okay, I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” he said and then, quieter, “I really didn’t expect all this.”

“But it happened. And do you maybe want to explain why you aren’t, i don’t know, jumping up and down with joy?” So she had noticed. “Did someone die? You should be celebrating!”

Sadly, Eliot really didn’t feel like celebrating. “It’s just, last time my career took off, Q-”

“No, sir, we are not doing that,” Margo interrupted him. “No you are so not gonna do this.. I let you be sappy, I let you be happy and cheesy and sweet sugar dripping disgusting but you are  _ not  _ gonna let a man stop you from celebrating your achievements. Not a chance in hell.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” At least he hoped it wasn’t. But no, it was something else, something- “Look, this isn’t about me wanting to play house wife, Bambi. This whole publicity thing- it complicates things.” That was all it ever did. “His kids don’t deserve the stress and. . .” his voice cracked. This was worse than he thought. “He will see me everywhere. My public persona, the person he thinks I am, but I am not.”

“El,” Margo tried to stop him, but for once, he didn’t listen.

“He has been seeing this Eliot for- for years. This picture perfect image, he doesn’t know about the bad shit, Margo.” He had finally said it and there was no stopping himself anymore, the words wanted out and who else could he trust them with if not his beloved Bambi. “How could he? We’ve done everything to hide it. I am not the same person he was in love with, too much happened, but I’m also not who he thinks I am.” And that was it, wasn’t it? “I’m lying to him.”

“So what do you want to do? Break this off?”

Eliot winced. That was the last thing he wanted. “I don’t want him to learn who I am, I want him to still- I don’t want his opinion to change.” The way Quentin looked at him, as if he was everything good in the world. “But I’m not sure how long I can play this role before it blows up in my face.”

“Usually, I’d help you to lie and deceive your way through this, but I think somewhere along the way we became actual adults so I am giving you actual good advice.” Adults. . . when did that happen? “Listen to my rare wisdom and be honest with him. I can tell you really like him, Christ on a neon disco ball, even I have to admit he is kind of likable, in an annoying sort of way. I could deal with him in my life, and that doesn’t happen too often.” That was the highest blessing Margo could bestow on people, Eliot was shocked she would give it so easily. Maybe it was a sign of her trusting his taste in guys- but even that would be a first.

“What am I supposed to say?” he asked her. “Hey I’m sorry I dropped you when we were teenagers, I am actually still in love with you, but I don’t think this would work because you have children and responsibilities and all I am is an addict and an alcoholic and so much more messed up than you’d ever be able to imagine! Also please sign this contract legally binding you to keep your mouth shut about all of my problems, thanks!”

“Maybe add that you have been sober for years, but sure, that works.” She said, dryly.

“He thinks I’m this perfect thing Margo.” And it felt amazing to just be so. . . good. “He can love this perfect thing, anyone can, that’s why we created it. But I’m not.” What would Quentin say when he found out who Eliot actually was? 

“How about you let him decide what he can and cannot love?” It wasn’t the answer he expected, but it was dangerously close to what Quentin had told him to do. “Because that big amazing popstar Eliot Waugh? He’s alright, I guess. I certainly wouldn’t waste my time with such a person, but sure, he’s many people’s cup of tea.   


Smiling. Polite. Nice. The image he tried to send really wasn’t the kind of person Margo was usually able to stand.

“You aren’t him. You are so much better than that, El. And if he can’t love that? With all your flaws? Let him screw himself to hell for all I care. You deserve someone who loves you for who you truly are.”

“Just be honest, huh?” He asked, realizing that he hadn’t even seen that as an option before.

“You know how every year, when we watch  _ love actually _ that really hot guy says how christmas is a time for truth?” she asked him, coming closer and clasping her hands behind his neck. 

“Yeah?” He was smiling again. His Bambi really had a way of cheering him up.

“If you can’t tell him at Christmas- when can you?” 

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“Thank god, you brought him clothes!” Plum ran over to hug Julia as if she’d just stopped the apocalypse. It was perhaps, a little bit overdramatic.

“Thanks, Jules,” Quentin said, “My daughter thinks my wardrobe is ‘embarrassing’” He made quote signs with his fingers and chuckled.

“Yeah, Q. We all do.” She answered, completely serious.

“Oh come on it’s not that bad!” He exclaimed, already regretting that he invited Julia over. Her helping him to get ready for a date with El, was certainly one hell of a throwback.

“Yes it is,” she sad at the same time as Plum went “Absolutely.” 

“See, Q. Your daughter knows what style is. We are all aware she hasn’t inherited that from you.” Enough was enough.

“Plum, sweetie, wanna go and order a pizza?” His daughter rolled his eyes, but she wouldn’t pass in the opportunity so she left. Seeing how Jula wiggled her eyebrows at him the second they were alone, he started to regret that decision, too.

“Soooo, how is Eliot?” She asked.

“The same as always,” He answered. As much as Julia was able to annoy him, he loved having someone to be able to talk about this with. She had known Eliot, as long as he had, after all. “Beautiful, charming, funny. . .”

“Yeah I know he basically owns you.” Julia laughed. “And maybe it goes both ways. How many songs do you think he has written about you?” Some, maybe. Quentin hadn’t actively listened to Eliot’s music after buying that first album, except for what he had been force fed by his children, though that was pretty new stuff. 

“I haven’t really listened to his music.” That first album was his little secret, he didn’t feel the shame for listening to it, anymore, but he still didn’t want to admit to buying it. “It’s hard to get over someone if you keep seeing their face and listening to their voice.” Which was why he’d put the record away after a couple of months, telling himself he should never do this again.

“Are you serious? It’s really good music.” Of course it was, it was Eliot’s after all. “Well let me tell you, your heartbreak? Platinum.” 

Only Quentin would have really preferred if it wasn’t. It made him uneasy, the way people seemed to know everything about him now. “Maybe I should stop this. Before I get too attached, i can’t go through that again.”

Julia seemed confused. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I can’t even let my kids ride the bus anymore!” He got a bit too loud there, hopefully Plum hadn’t heard him. “The whole world wants to know everything about me and I can’t stand the attention, Jules.”

“Q, it’s just like this because it’s all so new. Eventually, they will realise how boring you are and let it drop.” Quentin was really hoping for that. “Focus on the important thing. Eliot. It’s been so many years and you still talk about him like some perfect dream. You can’t tell me you want to give that up.”

“But he’s so. . . open. I’ve done a bit of research- don’t look at me like that it was just a quick internet search- and I feel like if I’d have kept going I could’ve uncovered every last thing he did since he left. There is no privacy, Jules!” 

“You can’t know that for sure,” She said. “Look, You have to talk to him about this. If he wants to be open and transparent about his life, that’s cool, but if you don’t want that for yourself he has to respect that. I don’t think he’d refuse that.”

“You might be right,” Quentin said, grabbing a coat to see if it would go with the suit Julia brought him. Eliot was bringing him to some fancy five star restaurant, so he really felt a need to look the part. 

“I’m always right.” She scoffed, and stole the coat away from him. “And don’t even think about it, there’s a fitting one in this bag.”

Oh what would he do without her?

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

From the moment he entered the restaurant, his eyes had kept searching for Eliot, who was apparently late, again. The waiter showed him their table and just as he sat down, another man joined him. “I’m sorry, this seat is taken,” Quentin said, unsure how to behave in a place like this. The man laughed.

“I know, don’t worry, Eliot is on his way!” What the hell was going on here. “My name is Tick Pickwick. I’m from his label.” He stretched out his hand in a greeting and Quentin took it reluctantly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were joining us.” The man laughed again, louder this time.

“Oh no I’m not, I’ll be on my way soon enough. I was the one making this reservation and now I’m just stopping by to thank you!” Maybe that was just how music industry people behaved, Quentin wasn’t sure.

“Thank me? For what?” He thought he would be able to avoid getting tangled up in Eliot’s career, as much as possible.

“This thing you have with Eliot is just fantastic, the public is eating it up!” Not the reason Quentin liked it, but yeah sure. “I mean who wouldn’t sympathize with a widower!” Now it wasn’t just the way Tick looked at him, that made him uneasy. “I mean no disrespect, all I am saying is you’ve helped his career a lot!” 

That wasn’t really my intention,” Quentin said, hoping the other man would give this conversation up and leave him to Eliot.

“That doesn’t really matter, you did it anyway!” He took out an envelope and slid it over to Quentin. “Just look through this later. It’s a list of suggestions, and some. . . motivation to keep this going.” Tick winked. “Dinner’s on us. And when you leave, there are going to be paparazzi waiting for you, so if you could turn the charm up some, that would be amazing!” 

Quentin frowned, but even as Tick got up, he kept talking. “Another thing that would be just perfect- a family outing! Maybe ice skating, with the kids and Eliot, the public would love that!”

“How would they now we’re there?” Quentin asked.

“Oh a few phone calls to the right people and there will be cameras  _ everywhere. _ ” That was the exact opposite of what Quentin wanted. Fear crept up as he had to ask himself if the people haunting him and his family had already gotten some ‘tips’ from the label. 

“My children are unavailable for photographs,” Quentin said firmly.

“Oh of course, I can understand that.” For some reason, it was really hard to trust those words. “Could we just keep our little meeting between ourselves? No need to ruffle any feathers.” So Eliot didn’t know about this. That was. . . good wasn’t it? 

When Tick left he looked into the envelope. There was a bundle of hundred dollar bills, neatly stuffed inside of it. He quickly shoved it into a coat pocket, and just seconds later he heard a “Hey Q.” and turned around to be greeted by a much better sight.

He had thought Eliot had looked fancy when they went out for Burgers, already, but this was on another level. A suit and vest combo this colorful would probably look ridiculous on most other people, Quentin was sure he could never pull anything like that off, but Eliot looked stunning.

“Oh, Hi El I- wow.” He hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud but what was said was said.

Eliot smiled, but there was something else in his face, too. He looked worried. “Q, are you okay? You look a bit. . . overwhelmed?” Oh yeah right, Quentin reminded himself, a lot had happened in the last five minutes.

“I’m fine.” Tick had been right about one thing, there was no need to bring their talk up- at least for now. It wasn’t really a good ice breaker. “This restaurant is just- a lot.” That wasn’t a lie, the place Eliot suggested was really something. 

“Welcome to my world.” Eliot laughed. “I guess we should be glad you’re here to give me some normalcy.”

“Oh come on-” started, but Eliot interrupted him. “No really! It’s just like old times. Remember our first date?” As if he’d ever be able to forget. 

“The people on the table next to us couldn’t stop talking about ‘Take on me’,” he chuckled. 

“It was one of the greatest music videos of all time, after all.” Eliot answered, pouring Quentin some wine. “The sketch animation was fantastic and it does tell quite a love story.” Instead of repeating the motion with his own glass, he took the bottle of sparkling water. 

“Yeah, I mean- Guy gives up living in a comic strip to find love in the physical world? That’s romance.” Quentin loved being able to make Eliot laugh.

“I think it’s evidence that no matter how different your worlds may be, love can still connect you.” When had Eliot become this smooth? It was going to be the death of him.

“Wel in that case.” Quentin raised his glass. “To the great 80’s band A-HA and their still relevant music video!” Their glasses clinked together as they both said “Cheers!” 

“I take it Alcohol still isn’t really your thing?” Quentin asked, remembering how much he had avoided it back when they were in high school. Of course it had also been illegal for them to drink it back then, so he had figured it had changed during Eliot’s years as a rockstar. 

“Yeah about that. . .” Eliot’s tone got more serious. “I probably need to tell you some things. I’m sober. Have been for a couple of years, actually.” He looked down onto his plate. So Eliot had been an alcoholic? Looking at him now, so well put together and remembering him as a child, hating the mere mention of the word, it was hard to believe. 

“I understand,” Quentin said, because he wasn’t a dick who’d ask him for more information, when Eliot seemed to be uncomfortable telling him already. 

“There are some things I should- I need to tell you, if you actually want this thing between us to lead somewhere.” Quentin nodded, but Eliot didn’t look up, fumbling with something in his pocket, instead. “It wasn’t just alcohol I had issues with.”

“Oh.” Quentin said, and when Eliot looked up at him he almost looked scared, so he quickly added “I just thought- you always seemed so well put together.”

Eliot smiled a quick, painful smile. “Yeah we couldn’t risk the public finding out about it.” It always came back to that, didn’t it? The public, his image. “My early twenties were a. . . rough time. I can’t say I’m free of issues now, but I’m trying my best.” Maybe Eliot was able to keep some secrets, after all. Quentin never would have guessed that Eliot was anything less than perfect. Not that he wasn’t still perfect, in his own way, in the way that had made Quentin fall in love with him, but he felt more real, made more sense. “Of course I understand if you don’t want to continue this- whatever this is, you have kids and I could be a bad influence-”

“What? No!” The words came out louder than intended. “Everyone has their issues, El, and you’re sober now.” Even if he wasn't, he wouldn't be able to just abandon him. It would be harder, yes, but Eliot would be worth it. Quentin realised he wouldn’t give him up for the world, not again. "I'm just glad you've told me."

"There's always a risk though," Eliot said, "I might relapse. It might get bad." 

"And I'll help you get through it," Quentin said, taking Eliot’s hand in his. "Whatever happens I-" love you. The words almost let his mouth. "can't lose you again." Just a little bit better. Still more honest than what he had intended to say, but what was the point, really? Especially when Eliot had just been this. . . honest.

“Well, I guess we have both been through a lot of things in our lives,” Eliot started, the relief in his voice more than audible. “And our worlds are very different now. But if this really doesn’t bother you and if we- we do both still feel like this? Right?”

“Yes,” Quentin said. All his fears and doubts had disappeared when he looked at Eliot who was just so earnest and  _ vulnerable  _ and so much like the one he had known so long ago. He hadn’t noticed it before, that there was something sitting between them, a wall separating their lives, but now? “Yes I think- we should give it a shot.” Eliot looked moments away from bursting into laughter and Quentin was aware that he was being more eager than he should be on what was essentially just a second date, but then again “Why the fuck not?”

“Quentin Coldwater, are you asking me to be your  _ boyfriend _ ?” Jesus Christ, deep down he really was still the same. 

“I am not saying there won’t be challenges, but I think we can work through them,” Quentin said as Eliot just kept nodding and grinning that stupid fucking grin of his.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Uh Huh.”

They didn’t need to use more words, because Eliot was leaning over the table and there mouths were connected again and Quentin was sure this was going to work, why else would this feel so right? As he pulled away Quentin opened his eyes- Eliot was beautiful, so unbelievably beautiful and “Are you wearing eyeliner?” Somehow that was where his brain got stuck.

“You can bet your pretty ass I am.” Quentin could feel himself turning red. “I needed to enchant you, after all.” Eliot winked at him. Why did he manage to wink without it being extremely awkward? It was simply unfair. “But speaking of- I should probably go look if I smudged it. Be right back.”

Quentin couldn’t help but stare longingly as Eliot walked away. Sadly the good feeling didn’t stay for too long, as he remembered the envelope hidden in his pocket. Tick had basically paid him to make things go well, not that that wasn’t what he wanted, but it was still weird. 

“You’re Quentin, right?” When he turned around there was an older, dark skinned man coming over from his own table. He recognised him immediately, it was Idri, Eliot’s ex. Just great. “Excuse me, I really didn’t mean to intrude, Eliot’s label invited me to a dinner, but I see know that this is probably just one of their games again.”

Quentin was baffled. “Why would they do that?”

“Because we’re popular with the masses, I guess? Their probably hoping we find our way back to each other after Eliot grows tired of his little expedition into the real world.” That surely was a way to make Quentin’s insecurities resurface, thank you very much. “Don’t worry I do not support that- I like Eliot and I really don’t mind keeping some appearances up, it’s good for both of our careers, but I think his happiness is more important than that. He’s been through enough already.” Oh god, he was a good person. He was handsome, rich, famous, knew Eliot’s world and he actually cared for him. This wasn’t what Quentin had imagined.

“I- uhm thank you?” He mumbled, making a complete fool of himself, but idri just smiled, kindly.

“Let me just stay and congratulate him, I’ll leave you two alone after that,” The other man said,, ignoring Quentin’s obvious nervousness. 

“Congratulate him? For what?”

“His album has climbed to number one.” Quentin had- not known that. he didn’t really keep up with Eliot’s career, but he felt like that was something he should’ve noticed. “It’s truly amazing. I don’t know if you liason was Eliot’s idea or the label’s, but it was brilliant. One of the best PR moves I have seen in a while.”

Quentin almost couldn’t believe Idri had actually said that. “The album is good. That’s why it’s on number one.”

“In an ideal world, that would be all it would take. Sadly, talent isn’t what gets you to number one anymore,” Idri answered, “especially not so soon after a break up with another public figure. Eliot needed something like this, and he really managed to stay on top. It’s admirable.” Eliot needed something like this. He was profiting from it. 

At least things started to make sense again. It was laughable, almost, how Quentin had believed he could ever make Eliot love him again. He hadn’t been good enough back the, he certainly wasn’t now.

“Idri?! What are you doing here?” Speaking of the devil. Eliot sounded so happy about seeing his ex, Quentin couldn’t stand staying in his seat for another second. So he got up. “Q, hey- where are you going.”

“I’m leaving,” he choked out, before turning to Idri, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Q, I have no idea what is happening here, I swear I didn’t invite him, I-” Eliot had gripped his arm, Quentin pulled away. 

“No I get it, Emotions sell records.” It had always been like that, hadn’t it? Eliot’s music had started with their love story, it was what had set all of this in motion after all. “Mine just aren’t for sale. You can tell the paparazzi later, they’re waiting outside, I think.”

“Q, what are you even talking about?!” As if he wasn’t aware what was happening here. 

“Come on, El, your label is paying for this dinner, your movie star boyfriend shows up, there are cameras everywhere- I can put two and two together.” He grabbed his coat. “I am not that stupid. With one quick movement he pulled the envelope out and slapped it onto the table. “Tell Tick I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. My life isn’t a song Eliot, you need to learn that.”

He learned how right he had been when he stormed out. Cameras weere flashing left and right, it only got worse when he heard Eliot yell his name behind him. Ah yes, give them a show.

“Quentin! Stop!” Eliot was panting, he had probably run after him. O this was so much drama, the public would just eat it up. “You know me. Better than anyone.” Quentin finally turned around. “Everything I just told you was true.”

“Yes, I know you Eliot.” He looked so sad, it would be unbearable to Quentin if he wasn’t sure that look wasn’t thee because of regret or fear of losing him, but to make people sympathise with him, listen to his music even more. That had to be it, right? “And I know your ambition. You are famous now and you can handle- maybe even enjoy this whole media circus. But it doesn’t work for me and it definitely doesn’t work for my children.”

“It’s not always like this.” Of course it wasn’t. Eliot had his secrets, if anything he had told him was true. He was able to hide, but Quentin was a good PR move, so why would he try to do the same with him.

“Your teenage dream is your reality now. There’s a price too pay, I get that, I just don’t deserve to be it. Not twice, El. It isn’t  _ my _ dream” 

“No. That’s not fair. just because you didn’t manage to become some famous author doesn’t mean you get to punish me because my life worked out!”

“My life worked out just fine, El. I have two kids I love more than anything. Yeah, I teach and spend my most of my weekends doing laundry, it’s not some rock star life- but I’m proud of it.” And maybe this whole disaster had been worth it, only for Quenin to realise this. He loved his life. He didn’t regret anything. 

This time he didn’t turn back after leaving.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Quentin honestly didn’t know what he had expected graduation to be like, he just knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It should feel big and important, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Maybe he had been wrong and sitting on an uncomfortable chair for hours, while a seemingly endless list of names was being read out loud was all there was to it. Since Julia had beaten him for valedictorian, he didn’t even have anything to do, nor did he have anything to look forward to. _

_ So close, but never good enough. That’s what he was after all. Good grades but no plans for the future, intelligence without vision, good enough to be someones High School sweetheart, but not the one you keep around after graduation.  _

_ Eliot had gotten signed by a record label. Quentin wasn’t even sure how exactly it had happened, Eliot had stopped talking about his career with him, avoiding the elephant in the room. There would be a big celebration later, almost the entire school wanted to come. People had been congratulating him constantly, people who probably hadn’t been aware of Eliot’s existence just a week ago, suddenly wanted to make sure to keep in touch with him.  _

_ Eliot was finally being seen and he lived for it. Quentin had always assumed that Eliot was with a him or a smaller circle of close friends because that’s how he preferred to live his life, but now he realised Eliot just didn’t have another choice. Now that everyone was interested in him, he chose that over Quentin- and who could blame him.  _

_ Quentin regretted that he hadn’t done the same as Kady and Penny and just bailed on this day. Eliot’s name would be called out close to the end, just before Julia’s, and he was sick of waiting around.  _

_ Just end it already. _

_ When the words finally fell and his boyfriend got up, Quentin watched him closely. He looked so much more at ease with himself. The second he took his diploma it was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He looked so far away, already, all Quentin wanted to do was close the distance between them.  _

_ But the distance would be so much greater in a couple of days and what then? Would he ever even see Eliot again? _


	9. Chapter Nine

“Dad?” He heard his daughter yell as soon as he entered his home. Damn, she should definitely be asleep by now. What did he even ask Julia to come over for? 

“Plum it’s way too late for you to be up,” he told her, and she simply rolled her eyes in response.

“I just wanted to know how things with Eliot went.” Really the last thing he wanted to be talking right about now. It had been cold outside, too damn cold for the outfit Julia had picked for him, and he might be a little bit tipsy since his refusal of being intoxicated around his kids in any way had made him unable to drink a single glass of wine without feeling the consequences. Plum should be asleep, it wasn’t his fault, she was supposed to be asleep, Julia was supposed to be watching her.

“I don’t think things with Eliot will work out, sweetheart.” He didn’t have it in him to pretend anymore.

“Why?” Plum looked shocked. “I like him!”

Of course, she’d say that she had read articles about his life for years, listened to his music, hung up posters, people liked Eliot, that was the main problem. Especially when they didn’t know him and Plum had met him once. She only liked him because he was famous. “You don’t actually know him.”

Quentin hadn’t meant to hurt her with his words, he tried to swallow the unpleasant things down, only he apparently didn’t achieve that. She looked hurt, anyway. “It doesn’t matter, I like him because he makes you happy.”

That was when he realized how he couldn’t just brush this one off. “Honey. . . come here, sit down.” He pointed to the sofa and knelt down next to it. She quickly followed suit, and he started talking. “People like Eliot, they…” He sighed deeply, realizing how hard this information had hit him, “they belong to the world.” It was strange, how she hadn’t noticed that, when she was usually so smart and perceptive, the people harassing them for days should have been indication enough. 

“It’s just too much of a risk. One day he might just decide that I’m not good enough and take off.” Just like he did last time. He didn’t even notice how fast the rage crept up inside of him. “For you, this is just fun and games, but for me, it’s my heart. There is too much on the line.”

“You are an idiot.” Did she just-

“Excuse me?!”

“I am sorry, but you are. He already gave you his heart, this time, you are the one running away.”

“I am protecting us!” He was almost yelling now.

“From what?” Plum was definitely yelling.

“From everything! From from publicity from record labels, from movie stars-”

“I don’t get that.”

“Well you don’t have to! Plum, the point is we are better off-”

“You love him. I know you do.” 

She had stopped yelling, to say the last part. Quentin didn’t know what to answer. “I’ve noticed how much Eliot wanted to see you again- he has a driver, dad. You know how unnecessary it was for him to come home with us the day we escaped to Manhattan?” Quentin had never thought about that. “He was super busy that day, he just wanted to see you again so badly. Even after you left him without saying goodbye, he still came back and you-”

“How do you know all of that?!” And what she knew wasn’t even the real version of what happened, how Eliot had left him first, how he had rejected him. “Wait, it was Julia, wasn’t it?” Truly the bane of his existence. She really shouldn’t be telling his children that stuff when they were still so young- and he shouldn’t either. “You’re twelve years old, we really shouldn’t be having this conversation,” he sighed.

“No, listen to me! You have to take a chance- Just like you did when you were fifteen.” She was pleading now.

“Well, I am not fifteen anymore. I have a lot of things to consider, Plum.” He had stopped trying to make her understand everything, he was her father, and it had been a day, and she should be deep asleep right now, anyway. “Your ideas, your fantasies about love, they’re all very charming, but they’re also extremely unrealistic. One day you will wake up and understand all of it.”

“Wow, you really know how to break a heart,” She yelled before storming off into her room. Quentin had finally achieved what he wanted, but somehow he was incapable of feeling good about it. Not when his daughter had looked so hurt, not when Eliot had. He fell asleep, their faces still in the back of his mind, and terrified when he noticed he still had to break the news to Teddy.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“We should finish decorating the tree,” Quentin said, walking into the living room with a box filled with every last thing one could possibly hang up a tree.

His kids didn’t even bother looking up from their homework, just muttered “Whatever.” 

This was  _ bad. _

“I know you guys are still sad that things between me and El didn’t work out, but come on, it’s almost Christmas!” Plum kept ignoring him. Teddy followed suit, but he looked a bit tense, at least. Quentin would probably be able to wear him down soon, he would have already if he didn’t feel guilty for the way he had handled things with Plum the other day.

“Is Eliot coming over for help?” Teddy asked and Quentin couldn’t even feel relief about his son finally talking to him again, because of course, it had to be about Eliot.

“No of course not, can we please stop talking about that,” Quentin whined.

“I’m just saying, he just pulled up.” Teddy was gesturing towards the window and  _ damn _ he was right, that  _ was  _ Eliot’s car. He could only stay still, in shock, while the doorbell rang and his kids ran towards it, ready to welcome Quentin’s Ex. Again Ex? Whatever it was, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

When he got up and went around the corner he was greeted by the sight of Eliot hugging them tight and laughing. “Aw, I missed you too, little ones.” Quentin didn’t say anything, he was too busy watching- Eliot seemed tall next to him already, but next to his kids he looked like a giant, it should’ve looked funny but it  _ fit _ . They fit together, they looked  _ happy _ almost like

Quentin swallowed.

They looked like a family. 

“Why don’t you let him in, huh?” He asked, instead of the other burning questions, because he couldn’t bear to look at this anymore. Not when he was supposed to send Eliot away.

“Do you want to decorate the tree with us?” Teddy asked sweetly. Oh, now decorating the tree was a fun pastime, huh? Ouch. They had clearly shown him whose side they were on. 

Eliot must have noticed how Quentin felt because he quickly told the kids he sadly didn’t have the time to do that, even though it sounded lovely. “I’m just here to drop something off,” he told them, almost wincing at their disappointed faces.

“Plum, Teddy, how about you get the rest of the decorations from the basement, huh?” They had played this game enough times for them not to complain or ask questions about why their father wanted to be left alone, so they did as they were told and Quentin thanked all the gods.

When he finally looked at Eliot, he noticed that the other man didn’t look all too comfortable, either. “Sorry, it was so early, I didn’t think anyone would be home.”

“It’s Christmas vacation,” Quentin said, matter of factly. It was written on Eliot’s face that he hadn’t even thought about the existence of such things in years.

“Right. . .” He mumbled, before holding showing Quentin the envelope in his hand. “I wanted to drop these off at the door, but since your here-” He took a deep breath “-I have this Christmas concert tomorrow and I thought you and the kids would like to come, maybe Julia too-”

“I’m sure they would,” Quentin interrupted, “But we’ve got plans. Family stuff.” It was true, the kids had begged him to go to the concert before Eliot came back into his life already and he had told them it wouldn’t work back then. Now things were different, sure, but it wasn’t an excuse. A concert just wasn’t the Coldwater way of spending Christmas.

Eliot just shook his head and placed the envelope on the table next to the sofa. “In case you change your mind. Merry Christmas.” He sounded exhausted. 

When he turned to leave, Quentin didn’t try to stop him. He simply hoped he’d never have to see Eliot Waugh again. It was too hard to do so when he had already made the decision to not act on his feelings. He wouldn’t let Eliot trick him again and he definitely wouldn’t fight for him.

“Eliot,” His mouth said anyways because Quentin Coldwater’s heart always won over his brain. “I’m sorry about what happened.” No matter how much smarter it would have been to just let him go. “Please don’t think I don’t care about you, because that’s not true.”  _ I love you, I love you so much that it scares me, I love you, but I can’t trust you with my heart again.  _ “I just can’t take the risk:”

“Don’t do this to me, Q.” Eliot had stopped still as soon as Quentin had said his name. “Please.”

His heart fought him, it screamed and kicked and punched, but Quentin held it tight. “But you did El,l when I gave you my heart you ran away.” Maybe his brain couldn’t beat it, his survival instincts on the other hand. . . not to forget his need to protect his family- those stood a chance. “Why do you expect me to not do the same now?”

“Because you have always been the braver one Q.” How could Eliot even say that? Quentin had never been brave, he had never risked or dared anything, not as Eliot had. “Because it took me years to finally become able to be honest with you, Quentin, and I know you deserve better, but I can be better now.” 

_ Don’t say that. You gave me no reason to trust you again.  _ But Eliot kept talking. “You know how people say fame changes you?” Quentin nodded. “It hasn’t.” The younger man scrunched his brows together in confusion. Eliot had changed so much, wasn’t he aware of that? “I never even knew who I  _ was _ \- of course I changed. Because everything was different, yes, but I would have changed one way or the other if I succeeded or not.  _ Fame _ just really changes the people around you.”

Eliot’s voice cracked. “At the end of the day, I’m still the kid from Bumfuck nowhere in Indiana, who eventually moved to the big city only to learn that your family needs a lot more improvements than just losing their farm- a kid who’s only good thing in life was the boy he fell in love with.” Every word he said armed Quentin’s heart more, made it better at fighting back. The word love, in particular, almost won it this war. “I still write songs and sing, just like I did back then, only some people happen to like the things I do. And yes have possibilities and fortunes now, some I couldn’t ever have dreamed off and I am truly thankful for those.” Almost. “They just can’t ever buy me what I need- or what I want- the most.” 

Deep breaths. This was too much. Eliot was fighting and Quentin just wasn’t prepared. They kept silent, Eliot’s eyes started to water when Quentin didn’t respond. He felt tense all over, sure that he would collapse into the other man’s arms if he did as much as open his mouth.  _ You can’t. _ But Eliot wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I gained a lot, but I lost just as much.” He took Quentin’s hand. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you. You were always the one, Q.” Quentin pulled away.

And took a step back. “I can’t.” 

Eliot smiled, utterly defeated. “I guess now you’re just the one who got away.” He had given Quentin everything he had. There was nothing left to say, so he left.

This time, Quentin didn’t stop him.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Naturally, Plum had been eavesdropping again. When she saw her dad’s face, all fight left her and she hugged him tight. “I’m so sorry,” She sobbed, “I just wanted you to have someone to love this Christmas.” 

Her brother followed suit and soon Quentin was almost drowning in comfort. “Hey,” he said softly, “Don’t worry. I do have someone to love. I love guys you so much.”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄   
  


_ It took a lot longer for Eliot to realize Quentin wasn't at the party than it should have. He had just assumed Quentin was hiding in some corner, the way he always was at parties. The way Eliot had used to, with him, before.  _

_ He wasn't like that anymore. Eliot was sick of hiding.  _

_ Hours passed before he finally noticed that Quentin was gone. He tried to call him, but the phone rang endlessly. Eliot wanted to be mad at him, wanted to drive up to Quentin’s house and drag him back to his party, however he was sure Quentin wouldn’t play along and who could blame him for leaving, when Eliot had left first. _

_ They were supposed to have a proper goodbye. Eliot had set up a picnic for them, in their favorite little spot, a field next to a lake, cut off from the rest of the world by a wall of trees. He’d gotten up early to prepare everything, the trees were decorated with fairy lights and there was a packed bag with food and blankets hidden behind a door in his room. It was supposed to be this big romantic gesture promising Quentin they weren’t over. _

_ But Quentin wasn’t here anymore. And soon enough, Eliot wouldn’t be either.  _

_ Years later the night would end in a blur. He knew he had felt too many emotions, that when someone offered him a drink he said yes instead of declining for the first time in a year- it was how he learned that it wasn’t alcohol he disliked, cocktails were delicious, it had been the beer he couldn’t stand. He knew he had somehow ended up in front of Quentin’s door. He also knew that he gave up before he managed to ring the bell. He might have stood there for minutes or hours, but it had surely been one of those moments that felt like an eternity of hoping something would happen while being completely aware of the inevitable letdown. _

_ What he didn’t know was what had happened to the decorations he had placed. Maybe someone else stumbled upon them and had the magical night he had wished for himself. Out of all the things he had to leave behind, they were the last on his mind _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“We have a Sold. Out. House. Eliot. Why in the everloving hell are you frowning!?” And what should Eliot tell her anymore? That he hadn’t wanted to stop ever since he left Quentin’s home? That every second on the stage, searching the audience for a familiar face, had been nothing but forced smiles and pain?

“Have you seen anyone?” He tried, and thankfully his Bambi understood him immediately and sank down on the couch, next to him. 

“The seats are empty. I’m sorry, darling.” Once again he thanked the universe that it had brought them together. Fame and fortune were worth nothing compared to her, the only thing that didn’t make him regret his decisions. 

If Quentin couldn’t live with that, it was a shame. Truly. But he survived it once and he would again. Sadly, he could still feel himself clinging to hope. Maybe he’s late. Maybe he’ll come. Maybe he loves me, too.

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

“Look what I found!” Arielle’s mum walked up to Quentin, who was still sitting on the couch, even when the rest of the family had already gotten into bed. She was holding one of Eliot’s records up. 

No, not just one of them, the first one. The one Quentin remembered buying, ages ago. “Ari used to listen to this all the time!” 

After being married to someone for years and having two kids with them, you think there’s nothing left to learn about a person. Arielle especially was never the one to have secrets, so this came as a surprise. “I didn’t even know she was a fan,” Quentin told her mother.

“Oh, of course.” The old woman laughed. “She never did when you were around, she was worried it might upset you.” It was hard to think about that, Arielle needing to hide something from him. She had always known how Quentin felt about Eliot, that he’d never truly get over him and it hadn’t scared her away. He could only love her more for it. “You know what she said? That she loved it because she could recognize you in all these songs, that Eliot basically wrote your ‘soundtrack’,” she laughed again, but this time it was more reassuring. “She told me how meaningful it is to have this music about loving this one specific person.”

She’d never been jealous. Not once. 

Quentin’s heart ached, for more reasons than one. 

“Do you remember our first dance at the wedding?” He asked. Memories of a room filled with light and blossoms flooded his mind, their daughter, barely able to walk, excited out of her mind in her little flower crown. 

“Yes.” She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Quentin hadn’t noticed the tear that had escaped his eye. “You two looked so beautiful together.”

“Well, I am a horrible dancer, actually.” He was trying to sound upbeat. “I didn’t think I could do it. And then she leaned close to me and told me ‘don’t think, just listen to the music’. She always knew how to get through to me.” What would she say now?

_ Don’t think. Let the music lead you.  _

_ Quentin stop worrying so much, you can’t live your life if you’re afraid of it.  _

_ Don’t think. _

It was so easy for his heart to win now.

“I think I have to be somewhere. Actually, we all do.” He stood up and took her hand, before walking into the hallway to bang on the doors. “Julia! Teddy! Plum! I hope you’re not asleep I’ve got a Christmas surprise for you!”

Thank god he’s got the tickets with him.

❄❅❄❅❄

_ When Quentin decided to leave the party without a goodbye, he had hoped to get home as quickly as possible. Instead, his steps were slow, unintentionally hopeful maybe, that Eliot would remember him at last. In the end, he had reached his car without a single sight of his boyfriend. _

_ He had his head held high through the whole journey, however, when he noticed his car keys were missing from his bag, meaning he might have to go back and search for them, he lost it. When Quentin sank to the floor to hysterically scramble through his belongings the tears came in such an overwhelming amount that he couldn’t breathe.  _

_ He didn’t even notice when someone knelt down next to him.  _

_ “Oh my god, Quentin are you okay?” It was Arielle. He knew he’d be ashamed of having a breakdown in front of her the next day, he just couldn’t bring himself to care now.  _

_ “My keys,” he managed to rasp, “I think I lost-”  _

_ “They’re right here, Quentin.” Arielle pulled them out of the bag and dangled them in front of his face, only then did he realize they had been in plain sight this entire time. It helped to- at least somewhat- calm him down. “Now tell me, what’s really up?” _

_ Quentin had to carefully think his next words through. He didn’t want her to convince him to go back and talk to El, but he knew she would if he told her exactly what was going on. “I’m just so alone.”, were the words he settled on. He went on when Arielle just quirked an eyebrow. “Eliot’s leaving. So are Jules and Alice and Kady and Penny and I’m just- I know some of them will come back, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do without them. It feels like it’s all over.”  _

_ “You’re not alone, Q,” she answered, gently rubbing his shoulder with her left hand. “I’m staying right here.” He had forgotten about that. If he was honest with himself he knew he always forgot about her. “And all my friends are leaving too so I really wouldn’t mind you hogging my time.” She laughed and Quentin had never before realized how pretty of a sound that was. He couldn’t help but join in. _

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Quentin had to admit, it was nice how happy his whole family was about his decision, even if it meant to get out of their comfortable pajamas and dressed in a matter of minutes- they were on a schedule, after all. Teddy, especially, hadn’t stopped grinning ever since they’d left the house. Apparently having met Eliot already didn’t make him less excited to see the singer in concert- he hadn’t seen him singing yet after all.

When they got to the hall, they could already hear the soft melody playing. It was one of the calmer, nostalgic songs Eliot had written for this album. 

“It’s gotta be the last song!” His daughter exclaimed. “You hurry in, dad, we got it from here!” Julia nodded and Quentin had stopped caring about good decision making a while ago, so he hugged them goodbye and sprinted towards the backstage entrance. 

The security guards were, unfortunately, just as determined as him. 

“I swear to god, I know him! I just need to talk to Eliot, for a moment then you- I know how crazy this sounds! But it’s important! Come on my name’s Quentin Coldwater, you must have seen some of the gossip going arou-”   


“Let him in.” Margo. Oh, thank god. “Why did I just know you would show up here last minute, out of your breath and ready to get your boy back?” Quentin wanted to answer, but she was faster. “Oh yeah right, because you are a sap. And a dickwad, no one makes my Eliot sad, capiche? Last time you got a free pass because you have children, but if you go in there now it better be for the long haul or they won’t find your body.”

Quentin didn’t even question if she was being serious. He should be utterly terrified. Instead, he just grinned. “Believe me I am.”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ The snow is falling, painting the world white _

_ And love, I know without you I won’t ever be right _

_ Because seasons change and people do, too _

_ but what will never change is how I feel about you _

Eliot was glad this was the last song of the night. He usually loved being on stage, but today all he wanted to do was hide back home, get himself a hot chocolate and Margo and watch some cheesy Christmas themed rom coms. Then the confused murmuring started.

A crowd behaving weirdly was always something that could send Eliot into a panic. What was he doing wrong? It almost took him back to earlier times, back when he had downed bottles of liquor before a show until the faces of the people were unrecognizable and the lights were blinding. When he had fainted on stage and people had freaked out. Then he noticed they weren’t staring at him, but at something behind him.

“Holy shit,” Quentin said into the mic.  _ Quentin. _ What the hell was he doing here? “Uhm- merry Christmas?” The murmuring just intensified. “I have no idea what I’m doing so, no high expectations please.” Quentin took a deep breath. “You don’t always get second chances, but Eliot, I want to apologize. When my- my wonderful kids brought you back to me my heart soared. I felt alive again, and then I got scared and I started thinking too much, but sometimes you just gotta listen to a song. I know what you are to me, El, and I don’t want to lose-”

  
Eliot had heard enough. There was his dumb idiot nerd standing right on stage with him, in front of thousands of people, stuttering on and no one could understand being scared of commitment more than Eliot Waugh did. So he walked up to Quentin and shut him up with a kiss.

The crowd  _ roared _ , but Eliot didn’t think about the pictures that would flood the papers tomorrow. What he thought about were Quentin’s lips pressed to his- twenty years ago, ten years, a week and right now. He wouldn’t lose him again, not this time. So long ago he’d told Quentin that it wasn’t a breakup, just a break- and he had been right. They’d get their happy ever after, even when the road had been bumpy. 

“I love you,” Quentin whispered, making Eliot kiss him again. 

“I love you, too.” He was vaguely aware that they should pause this, at least until Eliot could finish the encore, but every time he tried to pull away he just had to give in for another little kiss. “Always have.”

After what felt like an infinity, but couldn’t have been much more than a minute, Quentin pulled away. “I guess I should let you finish your concert. . . “

Eliot smirked. “See you backstage in ten.” 

Quentin nodded before fleeing off the stage. Eliot took the mic, dropping back into his public persona. “That was Quentin Coldwater!” he laughed, knowing how shy Quentin was. He must be red as a tomato by now. “The love of my life,” He added, for good measure.”

Everyone awed and clapped and Eliot just couldn’t stop grinning. “I definitely didn’t expect this tonight but I guess I got an early Christmas gift.” Then he looked right into the faces of two particular little angels who made this possible. “I guess I have to thank you for that Teddy and Plum.” Their faces lit up and Eliot turned back to the band.

“Now one two three-”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

_ Quentin couldn’t believe his luck. Eliot had really gone all out for their second anniversary. As shy and normal as he appeared sometimes, there truly was something dramatic and artistic in him, even outside of his music.  _

_ “To the second of many many years I will spend loving you,” he said and raised his glass filled with grape juice. Quentin laughed and reached up to meet it with his own, almost making the wine spill over the colorful blanked there were lying on.  _

_ Eliot pulled him into a quick kiss which tasted like grapes and promises and Quentin used the new position to snuggle up to him. He ended up with his head in Eliot’s lap, looking up to his face, while the other boy played with his hair. The lights Eliot had hung up surrounded him, making him look even more angelic than usual. Quentin couldn’t imagine ever feeling so content again, it was pure bliss. _

_ “Sing for me?” He asked sheepishly and Eliot smiled.  _

_ “Every song I sing is for you.” _

  
  



	10. Epilogue

Eliot quickly pulled him away from the oven. “What do you even think you’re doing here?!” He tried to sound appalled, but Quentin looked too endearing for him to make it convincing. 

“Scrambled eggs?” It was more of a question than a response. “You were still in the shower so I thought-”

“Never think again, I’m begging you.” Eliot shook his head. “We still have plenty of time to get ready and drive over to your parents’ house, you go look after the kids I’m gonna make us all some omelets, with actual cheese and veggies in it.” He placed a hand on Quentin’s side and used it to gently guide him away, not that it was necessary since Quentin would never say no to a meal made by Eliot, not since he had learned how good of a cook his boyfriend was. Most of the food he had eaten in the last few months had been made by him, ever since he moved into the Coldwater’s house.

It took him another moment, mind lost in watching Eliot artistically mix the ingredients and pouring them into the pan until realization hit Quentin. “Wait- it’s Christmas eve.” For a moment Eliot just waited for him to go on. “Christmas eve El, we forgot-”

“Our second anniversary!” Eliot looked positively horrified. After all, he was the one always making a spectacle out of every day one could possibly celebrated, especially if it gave him an excuse to be needlessly romantic. As if Quentin hadn’t been wooed enough already. “I have to make up for this. It’s settled now, I’m taking you to Paris with me.” Quentin groaned, but the annoyance was more of a play than anything. 

He would love to go to Paris with Eliot, it wasn’t that, but he made it sound so much easier than it was. His label had finally convinced Eliot, who had requested more personal time almost two years ago, to do a quick tour through Europe for his new album. In the end, it had been the fans looking forward to seeing him, that had convinced Eliot to be separated from Quentin for nearly two months. It was nothing compared to the tours he’d done earlier in his career, but back then there wasn’t anything keeping him in place. 

They had arranged for Quentin and the kids to fly in for a couple of days in between though, spend some time in Italy while they had vacation, but Eliot had a couple of weeks off after his concert in France and he could not stop pestering Quentin about it. And truly, he wanted to: he was sure Principal Fogg would let him go for a week if he volunteered to take over the detention hours, something he didn’t really mind doing since it was a good time for him to get some work done. The only reasons he still hadn’t said yes were Teddy and Plum. Yes, Plum was inconceivably responsible for a fourteen-year-old, but Quentin knew how busy Julia was and he really didn’t want to leave his kids unsupervised for too long. 

And anyway, he had all the time to see the world after Teddy left for college. It might take some years, but he and Eliot had spend countless nights talking about it, tucked tightly into the other’s embrace or playing with their hair. It was an ongoing fantasy, unreal for Quentin who had never left the country he’d been born in and even more for Eliot who had never thought he could share these places with him.

“I’m going to show you the whole world, darling,” Eliot had whispered into his ear. “I never enjoyed them the way I should.” Quentin knew now, why it had been hard for Eliot to enjoy the new places he got to see. About the pressure and anxiety resulting in him searching for ways to tone them down, making him seek the insides of clubs and bars instead of the sights and the city. He’d had Margo, of course, he’d had good times, but the places they were in were never essential to their relationship. “I know it will be different with you. You have this endless sense of wonder for things. You will find magic in details I didn’t even notice.”

Quentin had tried to laugh it off. It had already been late, he had no idea how late exactly, having lost track of time the second Eliot’s lips had touched his skin, but surely past midnight. He knew he wouldn’t get sleep any time soon when his boyfriend turned him around from where he was tucked against his chest to make him look into his eyes. 

“I mean it.” That was when Eliot had started stroking his cheek and Quentin’s laughter had died with him being too mesmerized by how  _ earnest _ the other man looked. “I love that sense of wonder. I love how it makes your face light up and how it makes you unable to stop talking, how  _ contagious  _ it is.” Quentin had almost wanted to look away, feeling utterly overwhelmed, except Eliot had held his face and it had felt  _ right  _ and Quentin usually had a hard time believing he could truly be loved but in that moment Eliot’s eyes had told him how much he loved him a million times in a way so convincing it was impossible to disregard. “All these marvellous things that I’ve experienced, people I’ve met, food I’ve eaten, nothing compares to being with you. Nothing feels special when you’re not there with me to be excited about it.”

Quentin didn’t have any words to respond with, so he did the next best thing and closed the distance between their lips. He had been right in the end, he didn’t get much sleep, but it had been a night full of promises he’d never regret.

Eliot was still looking at him and it was only then when Quentin realized how wrapped up in the memory he had been. “You know why I can’t go to Paris with you, El.” He shook his head.

“Except I convinced Margo to watch the kids, so you really have no reason.” Eliot looked incredibly proud of himself and he should be because while she loved the two as much as they loved her, she really didn’t care for being a babysitter. 

“I won’t even ask how you managed to do that, but isn’t she on tour  _ with _ you?” Quentin asked.

“Since we don’t have any shows on those days, I can spare her. Mostly because she doesn’t want to be away from her new girlfriend for too long, so it’s a win-win,” Eliot explained, at which Quentin raised an eyebrow. He had not heard anything about a girlfriend. “Your colleague, the cute one, Fen.” In retrospective, Quentin should have known, the two had started spending an awful lot of time together. 

“Soooo . . .” Eliot started, excessively dramatic and took Quentin’s hand. “Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, will you come to Paris with me?” 

Quentin couldn’t help but giggle at the big eyes Eliot made at him. “Fine, you won,” Quentin said rolling his eyes at Eliot’s grin. He pulled the other man close and leaned in until his lips nearly touched Eliot’s skin. “By the way, I think your eggs are burning.”

❄ ❅ ❄ ❅ ❄

Eliot figured Quentin didn’t really need to know what the true tipping point in convincing Margo Hanson to watch children was. It had taken him  _ months  _ of convincing, but even Margo’s cold as ice attitude couldn’t protect her when Eliot had shown her the engagement ring he’d picked out. 

“It’d better be worth it,” She’d groaned, and Eliot told her not to worry about that. He knew for sure this time, it was for forever. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and sticking with me to the end! This is the longest fic I've ever written for the Magicians fandom.  
> You can find me [on Tumblr here](https://allthemagicthings.tumblr.com) and 


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